The doctor is in
by dan ankers
Walking, walking
on the streets by day
creeping, creeping
between them in the night
Eternal eyes
furtive ‘neath their heavy lids
unsuspecting
masses just like kids
while the walking, creeping
classes
make their ways
down much darker paths
than this simple fool
would care to say
No actions seen by light are true
No words conversed mean anything
All things done are shaded by
extra steps and double talk
Hooded masked women
and creepy crawly men
marching up sidewalks
searching for their doctors
Found easily
patrolling stealthily
between
roving helicopters
Eager, thirsty
erections-with-purpose
Seek out practitioners
in high heels, carrying purses
Easily squeezed
along their routes
like fruits, for a price
they can be nice
fixing your vice
with their juice
The medicines these docs both carry,
they vary
Though both
in some ways
serve the same purposes
taking pressure off the souls
of those who feel worthless
or just uncaring
blankly glaring
in all ways lost
ever despairing
Even the clientele
it does vary
by degrees
Shuffle along, the sheep
living till the end
complete
all the live long day
amidst the wolves
the patients and the doctors
and
the rhythms of the city streets
with
all the baggage
that we carry there
unaware or illumined by
the lanterns of the night
and the moonlight
or the sun overhead
burning mightily
before wary eyes
Either way the earth will
eat them all
the growling mouth
will swallow them up
But some...
some patients are just sicker than the
others
Some require
different kinds of doctors
No comments:
Post a Comment