Clinic

I opened a workshop of living
it takes care of the city's sorrows,
makes you tear up traffic tickets, 
miss appointments,
climb a tree and curse authority.
Just yesterday an old lady came.
She suffers from not knowing 
how to be a girl anymore.
She's there, 
smiling and sitting on the floor,
she has a cane in her lap 
and in her rheumatic hands 
a beautiful rag doll.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2022

Poem

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