The doctor’s handsome
and that makes it worse…
more bad news from
the lips of handsome men.
We need more tests, he says.
Well no lover ever put it in those terms.
X-rays, CAT-scans, blood and urine samples…
he takes it further and further
away from feelings.
And yet those warm hands,
those deep blue eyes,
and the way a lock of hair
falls across his forehead…
the stuff you used to fall for,
still would if the head
didn’t so out-throb the heart.
In the meantime,
he gives you something
to ease the pain.
Not himself, of course.
John Grey is an Australian poet, US resident. Recently published in New Plains Review, Stillwater Review and Big Muddy Review with work upcoming in Louisiana Review, Columbia College Literary Review and Spoon River Poetry Review.
