Takes Guts

There’s little that’s prurient about surgical tape, gauze stuck in wounds,
Measures of peroxide and Mupirocin. Stitches, staples, special glue,
Likewise cull no memories of court seats, sunny fields, too much icing.

Videlicet, sometimes, a neighborhood’s most rabid visitor is neither
Komodo dragon nor entrepreneur raccoon. There are days when death,
Masked as angels, announces in minor chords its many-faced intentions.

On such anniversaries, it’s best to ignore glorious upstarts, snub promised
Endings, overlook happiness’ plans for vacations, nannies, working cars,
Think less about social strata climbing, give up aspirations of popularity.

It takes guts to eyeball knife-happy oncologists, radiologists with “ideas,”
Nurses stuck on protocol, administrators who neglect to acknowledge
Necessary insurance forms, co-payments, maximum fiduciary solvency.

The “biological hazards” that get removed are hardly the worse invaders
When shift schedules dictate procedures, rich and famous get privileges,
Questions are outsourced to the hands of healthy nationals living abroad.

Yes, the best response to scary attackers, the most prized heroic measure,
Can be called in to fill tissue dispensers, empty garbage bins, perhaps also
Admonish misguided volunteers expecting you to like hospitals ever after.

editors note:

For any who must navigate medical waters during this storm… (Congrats to KJ on the release of her new collection, “Rudiments.” Get your copy on Amazon here.) – mh clay

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