You are so soft / in voice and touch, / gliding through / the mines that are set in
I have always wanted to fly / but they wouldn’t let me / until I signed a contract / built on blood and tears
I’m supposed to be able to explain this. / The details to paint a picture. / But it’s too much, and I don’t want to relive it.
“And your socks, too,” I said / She stooped to reach her feet / And the liner of the exam table crinkled and popped
Once upon a time, in distant land, / we’d write down patient information with a pen in our hand.
The waves beat; / a cold, relentless torrent. / You stand against them / taking the impact
Humor… / it’s what saves me / keeps me from dying inside
Lunch hour on a Thursday
in the skies above
Medical alert, paged — STAT to Bed 3 / The nurse comes a runnin’ — we need an MD!
A haiku about screening for colon cancer.
When do-sed dram or weigh-ted dusts / no remedy impart
How do you enjoy that / Which will be gone — sooner than someday?