Thursday, August 03, 2006

poetry from Michael Estabrook

Back in the Middle Ages

“Say, Doc? I grimace
as he yanks the stitches
out of my jagged red hernia scar
(though curiously it doesn’t hurt).
What happened
when someone had a hernia
and needed surgery like this
way back in the Middle Ages?”
He brushes
my incision carefully
with an alcohol wipe.
“They died,” he says
as he strides out of the room.


-- Michael Estabrook

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