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A Stupid Satire
The syringe is full of ginger juice
and I inject the needle into the patient's eyeball
because they're having bad visions.
The patient dies of shock noon o'clock on a Sunday
and the family tries to sue me for murder.
I'm a doctor, I know what I do.
What the hell right do those layman scum have
versus my medical degree and knowledge?
The procedure was never tested, but
I had such knowledge of the divine
who said unto me "stab a needle of ginger
straight through a person's pupil
if they come to you proclaiming distress."
And so I did. Also, so far as I am concerned,
practicing what heavenly guidance hath preached,
I have sent the patient to happy heaven;
thus I bring a bill of $5,000,000 to the court
and demand a signature and payment soon
for my incredible act of prophetical procedure
enacted upon that faithful day, when we
made the dream of new ways a reality. Amen
As someone who is distressed
As someone who is distressed by the greed of our medical establishment, I delighted in this sly and satirical commentary that shows your ability to be both spontaneous and clever. Much enjoyed!
The cause is greed indeed
I've been forced into the psyche ward several times; so I know what you mean. The medical establishment is contrived of evil ignorance that blindly pursues a sort of torture, even sacrifice of innocent people who are simply trying to discern our confusing reality. It's very sad; but simultaneously intriguing to witness first hand as an enlightened patient when the nurses cant see beyond their own violent aims.
bananas are the perfect food
for prostitues
A chilling dystopain vision,
A chilling dystopain vision, describing an act so heinous that it forces the reader's imagination to extend a bit just to try to get around it. This is a poem other narrative Poets can learn from.
Starward
Your comment alone is perfect
Your comment alone is perfect enough to revel
in its magnifecent observational clarity .Thank you.
bananas are the perfect food
for prostitues
Your poem gave me the kind of
Your poem gave me the kind of shudder that only the best horror stories can evoke. I have made note of your techinique.
Starward
Honestly, I'd be extremely
Honestly, I'd be extremely interested to read your note. But the funny thing is, my technique for this "eerie dystopian" was actually pure boredom and the desire to write something when seriously nothing was on my mind.
bananas are the perfect food
for prostitues
That boredom is not to be
That boredom is not to be discounted. I remember reading about a group of five friends who were bored in the summer of 1816, and turned to writing to alleviate their boredom. The only story completed out of that effort was expanded into a novel, published anonymously in 1818, under the title, Frankenstein, and has never been out of print.
Starward