The technician in the aqua lab coat
\nsummoned the balding guy
\nwith the slightly bleeding
\nshunt in the crook of his arm,
\nwith whom I had commiserated
\nabout the insipid iodine cocktail
\nwe were both sipping:
\nhe departed clutching at
\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:
\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 a loosely Donning my three-armed suit of lights When I emerged from the cubicle she shuddered as if something cold I sat facing her in my three-armed gown I wanted to notice 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 summoned the balding guy with the slightly bleeding shunt in the crook of his arm, with whom I had commiserated about the insipid iodine cocktail we were both sipping: he departed clutching at … Continue reading
\nby shirt and 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 my current task: two beakers
\nof iodine to swig.<\/p>\n
\nan elderly patient whose husband
\ndied twenty-seven years ago,
\nand her friend whose husband
\nfollowed suit last year.<\/p>\n
\ndogs gifted by anxious relatives
\nwho seemed to think furry distraction
\nwas better than none.<\/p>\n
\nand we gaily debated whether
\nthe tepid, slightly metallic fluid
\ntasted more like dilute bad wine
\nor dilute bad pee. I ventured
\nEl Magnifico<\/em> would have us
\nsuck lemons and salt and pretend
\nit was dilute bad tequila.
\nWe subsided into our respective
\nwaiting room meditations.<\/p>\n
\nfolded 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?<\/em><\/p>\n
\nwas easy: shrug into the first two arms
\nas usual, then fling the remainder
\nacross the front, turn and thrust
\nmy 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<\/em><\/p>\n
\nhad arrived.<\/p>\n
\npressing 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
\nor beer; they should be proffering a muleta<\/em>
\nor thrusting an espada grande.<\/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.<\/p>\n
\nand had finished my beef stew but
\nJimmy\u2019s mother
\nglared at her ration books
\nJimmy hadn\u2019t touched his
\nand she was going to open her mouth
\nand the comparison was 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":"