The technician in the aqua lab coat
\ncalled the balding guy
\nwith the slightly bleeding
\nshunt in the crook of his arm,
\nwith whom I had commiserated
\nabout the insipid iodine solution
\nwe were both drinking:
\nhe departed the tiny room,
\none hand holding together
\nthe back of his hospital gown.<\/p>\n
Did I hear people in the corridor?
\nI added a three-armed gown
\nto my exhortations of the universe
\nalmost as important then as
\nworld peace, an end to global warming
\na cure for cancer or whatever was growing
\naround the mystery shadows in my gut:
\nO, to depart for my CT scan
\nwith my hairy ass inside the gown.<\/p>\n
Primitive calm still held together A pair of women joined the party: They related their mishaps with Soon the elder\u2019s beverage arrived, The technician handed me When I emerged from the cubicle I sat facing her in my three-armed gown I wanted to see her I was eating lunch at Jimmy\u2019s place I don\u2019t know, I just folded them Glossary: The technician in the aqua lab coat called the balding guy with the slightly bleeding shunt in the crook of his arm, with whom I had commiserated about the insipid iodine solution we were both drinking: he departed the tiny … Continue reading
\nby a shirt and a hand-knit sweater
\ncorduroy trousers, shoes and socks
\nand a thin glow of perspiration,
\nI focused on my paperback:
\nEl Magnifico<\/em> was about to face the bulls,
\nand I the current task: two beakers
\nof iodine to come. I knew the drill.<\/p>\n
\nan elderly patient whose husband
\ndied twenty-seven years ago,
\nand her friend whose husband
\nfollowed suit last year.<\/p>\n
\nthe care and feeding of dogs
\ngifted by anxious relatives
\nwho did not want them to live alone.<\/p>\n
\nand we briskly debated whether
\nthe insipid, slightly metallic fluid
\ntasted more like dilute bad wine
\nor dilute bad pee. I said
\nEl Magnifico<\/em> would have told us
\nto suck lemons and salt
\nand pretend it was bad tequila.
\nWe subsided into meditation
\nas one does in waiting rooms.<\/p>\n
\na loosely folded pale green cloth something.
\nIn that booth, take off everything
\nbut your shoes, socks, and underpants.
\nDo you know how to put on
\na three-armed gown?
\n<\/em>
\nDonning my three-armed suit of lights
\nwas easy: shrug into the first two arms
\nas usual, then wrap the remainder across the front,
\nslide my arm into the third sleeve.<\/p>\n
\nthe older widow regarded the layers
\nof shirt, pants, undershirt
\nshelved on my forearms\u2014
\nYour wife has you well-trained:
\nI could never get my husband to fold
\nanything\u2014
\n<\/em>she shuddered as if something cold
\nhad arrived.<\/p>\n
\ntrying to keep my hairy knees together.
\nThe flat pile of clothes became a table
\nfor my fists, which felt disconnected
\nfrom me, they should be holding burgers or beer;
\nthey should be holding a muleta<\/em>
\nor espada<\/em>.<\/p>\n
\nfifty years ago, across a crowded corrida<\/em>,
\nher index finger tracing her full red lips
\ninstead of worrying the rim of the empty
\npaper cup. I went back further:<\/p>\n
\nand had finished my beef stew but Jimmy\u2019s mother
\nlooking at her ration books noticed that
\nJimmy hadn\u2019t touched his
\nand she was going to open her mouth
\nand the words were going to come out
\nand drive an espada<\/em> right down the table.<\/p>\n
\nand
\nand her husband hadn\u2019t finished his
\nand the damn three-armed gown
\nwas making me keep my knees together.<\/p>\n
\ncorrida<\/em>: a bull fight
\nmuleta<\/em>: red cloth on a stick, used in the final stages of a bull fight
\nespada<\/em>: sword<\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"