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The Specialist
The doctor walked mechanically into the room
slapped on deep blue rubber gloves and
hid his mouth and nose behind a rough paper mask.
The patient was propped awkwardly upright
supported by dense, stone pillows
as his eyes stared blankly at a stained wall
With sick eyes he looked towards the doctor and said:
‘what is living doctor?
are you supposed to feel alive?’
The doctor twisted to see the man and said:
‘it’s time for surgery Mr. Machine.
let me put you down.’
The patient closed his eyes and fell asleep…
Two hours later, the Specialist arrived.
The doctor stomped out of the room,
his face pale and lifeless
perplexed by the phenomenon lying on the bed.
He approached the Specialist and addressed him with a raspy voice:
“it has never been this difficult before…The heart—
it is as hard as a steel!”
The Specialist only smiled and said:
“How little you know.
You never studied.”
The Specialist glided into the room
washed his hands with a clear stream of water and
dried his hands with a white paper towel.
He breezed over to the patient’s bed
and taking no utensils
delved his hands into the open body.
Blood pooled around his hands and
organs bulged and bent
The Specialist coaxed the life forms
into order.
And when he reached the heart,
He cupped it in his hands
and smiled.
The Specialist did no more.
He gently tucked the heart back into place
and molded the skin back
into order.
Then—he left.
The patient awoke two hours later.
He rested back against the fluffy pillows
and gazed dreamily at the pure white ceiling
all the while blissfully smiling.
The doctor strode in hurriedly and the patient sat up enthusiastically to say:
‘Doctor it feels so good
to be living today!”
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