Sorry pop your leg don't feel good
and sorry pop doctor's ointment didn't help
      and sorry pop problem was no blood
and sorry pop it was on to the hospital
and sorry pop you needed an operation
and sorry you needed another one
and sorry ya needed a nother one
and sorry yaneeded notherone
and sorry ya needednotherone
and sorryyaneedednotherone
an sorryyaneedednotherone

and sorry, incredibly,

you needed another one,

 and sorry pop none of them worked.

And I regret deeply having to inform all of you,
at this time, and ready or not,
    that a whole family's hopes, dreams, fears,
 thoughts, anxieties, and sensations have
narrowed now  
to precise form, palpable touch,
the actual substance
          of what seems to be
                 one sick foot.

And I'm sorry to tell ya pop, young doctors
are hip, with sensitivities
       surgically implanted in "Patient Psych 101".
It's sad to see they cry real tears,
while commiserating in shared prognosis
      of your imminent physicalemotionalfinancial

And sorry most of all pop--they haven't
stopped sending bills.

And sorry these physician priests
seem deaf to simple mutterings of
one lowly and penitent foot that just wants out.

So sorry pop you had bad luck
of a bum leg
 in a time when bad luck is unforgivable,
    and a real mistake,
 and a place where our silly pretensions
         go this-a-way,
    and bad legs go that-a way.  
Sorry Pop.



All written material © Bill Schechter, 2016
Contact Bill Schechter