it's quite good actually
Jericho likes it -
but i'm struggling not to giggle
as i lie on the bed in the middle
of the night
my wife is not giggling
she is asleep
but i am certain i heard giggling
through the wall
yes, the neighbours are giggling
both of them
i look for the saw
because i want to join them
through the wall
and we can giggle together
it takes forty minutes
i'm through the wall
and the portal
leads me to the giggling
she's tickling the dermatologist
i look back through the excavation
i tiptoe back in
and i wake up my wife
and after twenty minutes she giggles with me -
until she sees the space in the wall
we stare at it from the bed
i burp loudly
what a time to be alive
Grazing upon my hide,
lumbering,
ravenous beasts
farm,
crop, and munch upon
the harvest rich-fields
of my squamous integrum.
The dermatologist tells me not to worry,
that it’s just the normal microscopic
fauna and flora.
They clean away the dead,
vacuuming-up
the desiccated debris
and dander.
“We are not snakes” he says,
“we need help to shed.”
I can’t help thinking of those millions
of par-blind,
pig-like,
tank-shaped organisms
forever thriving,
feasting,
and then they themselves
decaying
upon my skin,
and they all-unknowing
that they are
most definitely not
the greatest creatures
ever to have roamed the earth!
Instinctual animalcules
constantly changing
the density
of the shadows I cast,
the thickness of my shedding.
Mites nibbling away at my silhouette,
until either it seems to be
far too heaped and corporal,
or way too transparent
to be seen in strong sunlight.
The dermatologist
He was a big expansive man who had a Homeric laughter
when not shouting at nurses who loved him.
He performed surgery on me and warned the problem
would reappear in a few years; it did.
At sixty-five, he was about to retire and travel the world
before he got too old.
He was a man in whose company people felt good
a man with a good appetite for life, a lover of women
and the best of wine.
When I sat in the waiting room at the diabetes
doctor, he came out looking pale
and thunderstruck, he didn’t see anything, only
saw a black wall of despair.
The next thing I knew, he had taken his own life,
which he loved so much; his colleagues were sad
no one had seen this coming.
His dreams of a sunny future were broken like
a street lamp, in the dim autumn light.
We know so little about other people that some
regard as a setback, others see it as a catastrophe
My cardiologist had tears in her eyes,
why, why she murmured, he was so full of life.
It is not because I was unduly worried then.
That miserable beauty spot was becoming a ball.
I never bothered about it since I was a man
Or that it could some sort of vicious cancer I recall.
But my ugly beauty spot grew just below my eye.
It hampered my vision and made it difficult to read.
So I went to the dermatologist with a big sigh,
Hoping that cutting the spot off would not make me bleed.
The doctor laughed, we just burn it off, it would not hurt.
Alas hurt it did but the spot of beauty was just gone.
But then I could read properly for me, my dessert.
Happy I was though I had to pay well to Doctor John.
That was twenty years ago. Nothing disturbed my reading.
But now the beauty spot returned all covered in black.
I will not pay another bill and see it bleeding.
I could read my all-lovely books from back to back.
NB This is a true story. The spot or wart was a hindrance. It grew back as a dark flat skin after some twenty years. Trust my daughter to insist I should do away with it. More wasted money. I bet in twenty more years it will grow again. But in twenty years I will be dead. So who cares!
dermatologist
flame thrower on steroids....
pain
In younger days, my doctor calls
Were few and far between.
A checkup visit wasn’t ever
Part of my routine.
But aging changes all of that
For everyone is trying,
By seeing every specialist,
To staunch the fear of dying.
So now a dermatologist
Will check a brand-new mole.
Suspicious bloodwork? You’re in
Hematologist’s control.
Of course, the gynecologist
Must get a yearly see
And ophthalmologists and those
In rheumatology.
Let’s not forget those stress tests
Cardiologists insist on
And also the urologists
Whose plastic cups get pissed on.
Most gastroenterologists
See clients up in years
And certainly psychiatrists
See seniors for their fears.
I wonder if we might be
Better off just saying “**** it”
For all these doctors can’t prevent
Our kicking of the bucket.
Ophthalmologist
Checked eyes
Have styes
Proctologist
Drop drawers
Up yours
Plastic Surgeon
Replace
Plain face
Gastroenterologist
Pass gas
No class
Dermatologist
All sorts
Of warts
Audiologist
Can't hear
Bad ear
Dentist
No Floss
Gross dross
Psychiatrist
Your bean
Not keen
Podiatrist
Big toe
Must go
ENT Specialist
Ope' maw
Say ahhh
Allergist
Please sneeze
Don't wheeze
Cardiologist
Poor bloke
Had stroke
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2015 All Rights Reserved
Entry for Judy Konos' "Your Footle Poem" Contest
Ever been given the “bum's rush”?
It happened to me yesterday
By this highfalutin dermatologist
Who's definitely overpaid
Appeared to me his only concern
Was how many souls he could see
To help him choose between a Jaguar
A Mercedes or an SUV
This may sound a bit cynical
But what else am I to surmise
Spent a minute and a half in total
Discussing the rash on my thighs
His 4 hour days must be oh so gruelling
As his golf buddies patiently wait
Only 43 patients to rush out the door
Before once again joining his mates
So did I get at least some satisfaction?
Well he told me my problem was age
His advice, “just suck it up, mister”
Now you know why I'm so enraged
Ever been given the “bum's rush”?
My blood has boiled over the top
Where did their code of ethics go
I'm disgusted with the whole damn lot!
© Jack Ellison 2012
My dermatologist has me visit him a couple of times a year,
To look me over good to ensure that my hide is clean and clear!
Alas, due to my four score years, 'liver spots' grow upon my paws,
But he kindly 'freezes' them off to rid me of those unsightly flaws!
Doctor Twede's his name and he's one of the most gracious guys I know,
Since he calls them 'wisdom marks' and that sure does ease the blow!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Anywhere I go to, I am being rejected,
This filthy nature has made me dejected,
My body is all covered with conspicuous rust,
which is like raw metal ore from the earth crust,
People get scared not to get infected,
even though my face is not affected,
This reddish-brown skin has now become a stigma,
which has placed my dermatologist in a real dilemma.
So as not to come under the scrutiny of an oncologist,
Each six months to check my moles I visit my dermatologist!
His exam is as thorough as that of an investigative criminologist.
Sometimes he'll take a biopsy and forward it to a microbiologist!
Many times he's had my moles zapped by his electrologist,
Or provides an RX for medications from the pharmacologist!
If he suspects any cell abnormalities he'll call in his cytopathologist,
Or send me down the hall to consult with his peer, the etiologist!
I don't want to come under the knife of that "cut-up", the pathologist,
Nor do I want to be listed in the obituaries by a passionless necrologist!
To keep this old frame free of moles I have no faith in a cosmetologist,
So, I'll continue to bare my hide for inspection by my dermatologist!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Placed No. 6 in Nikko Palmario's "Holy MOLE-y!! Contest - August 2010
The breakwater protected bay
This mole of rock please hold
Mole on my face bid you goodday
Not welcome_ you I've told
Hugh mole bored through massive mountain
Vehicles travel straight
While I travel real fast again
To dermatologist
Decision to end job as mole
For new mole malignant
As a woman somewhere dies I'm told
From mole mass alterant