Hippocrite's Oath

Hypocrites’ oath Dirt-cheep government clinics treat death And disease just like they are dirt and refuse Which in a way is just about fine. Today’s multi specialities, housing as they are , A subtle tree branching off into labs, A stethoscope hanging from every crotch of its, Pre-set to prescribe a slew of tests whether it’s Common cold or cancer, Ninety-year-old or tiny tot, Sugar coating their contempt for the medically illiterate By glorifying life and ridiculing death and selling it to us For a vulgar price, often a fortune for a sniffles. How would they not? When folks are willing To sell off homesteads to treat a harmless swelling. Here, in one such, folks sit cursing their ‘fate’ology Before a board which says Neurology Like the rare cucumber slice floating about In its chic eatery’s sambhar* hot. Thinking of how, once out, They could wear the physician’s famous name around Like a red and yellow flower garland Bought at the wayside stall at a price, a hundred Times over what the farmer who grew them got . The good old physician seems gone, genial , suave, Sitting in his modest office, respecting your illness, Your money and the Hippocrates’ oath more than you Which the new crowd misspell as Hypocrites’ oath too Not because they did not pass the spelling bee But acquired the all important degree And an incurable greed for money. 11th Sept 14 Form: free verse