trevor has a long shapely beard
rounded spectacles and the look
of a 19th century psychoanalyst
save for his rubbery blue gloves
trevor drops a liquid into my eyes
turning them to large dark pools
through a prick on my backhand
he fills my veins with syrupy dye
from a mad-scientist machine
flashes of light capture my retina
displaying red planets on a screen
roving the landscape for signs life
i blearily stare at a chart of letters
in the hallway i hear a silver tongue
rattling another subject's stats into
a space-aged recording device
the voice then glides into the room
and that mercury-tongued messenger
tells me that my managed diabetes has
not deteriorated my sharp blueness
Absolutely love this one! Especially the Martian rover imagery. That last line is killer too. Manzo eye clinic features in a poem!
ReplyDeleteAlmost... this was at Dr. Levin's office. It's a Retina Center that Dr. Manzo sent me to because one of my field tests wasn't as good as before. But all things seem to be fine. :)
ReplyDelete