Ex Testes


Always the banging furniture, choked screams from the
room next, shit, doctor's places jitter me, the camphors and
hurt-you tools. Squatting nervous, snared by the bouncy
rabbity whites thumping by lipping, she'll be a little
late, an emergency, with you soon. Suck a Winston, deep
drag, wracking hack, buck the 'bones.

Three packs dreaming, exhaling at her probing back there.
Does that hurt, she chuckles, cough. Easy, doctor, phlemy
fumes burning going out. You should cut back, she henly
cackles at my rear, does that hurt, fingers twisting. God,
yes, tears dribbling.

You waited too long to come in, she murred, early treatment
is nearly always successful. We'll go in for a see, set a
time slot with Maureen, Monday, say, okay, wipe your nose.

No, no cutting, no laser, let 'em rot, they're finito,
hurting like hell, whiskey cures all. Y'ovaries a bother?

She bucked: it can spread, liver, stomach, intestines,
lymphs, lungs -- well, not those cauterized lungs. Let me
get in, scapel shaggers, crimp nerves, tie knots, numb 'em.

----------

September 20, 1995