Thursday, January 30, 2025

poem

 Cutbacks

The hospital was cutting back

We had to do more with less

Instead of a knife there was broken glass

Old shoe laces to sling a shoulder

Used floss to ligate a bleeder 

We rediscovered the cleansing powers of fire

Bags of ice and a stick to chew on

Wounds marsupialized rather than closed

Because everything here heals by secondary intention.  

Some of the things we do are pure theater

Like the dry season rain dances of apostolic shamans

Here’s a pill

Here’s a number for a therapist

Here’s a light dose of arrogance 

Here’s your bill


1/30/25

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