Kim Doyle
Kim Doyle Poems
“The practice of medicine is an art, not a trade; a calling, not a business; … William Osler
He visits doctors;
they have him in their palm.
...
“He had the one thousand-yard stare, ”
one EMT said to the other. Sharing
their hard gained expertise
on the nearly dead.
...
All I have to do is watch the cats
and I know when my wife arrives home.
I don’t hear her at the side door but they do,
even before she touches the knob.
...
It’s an adage, but true, that to remember
something you forgot, go back to the spot
...
The Best Poem Of Kim Doyle
What The Left Hand Is Doing
“The practice of medicine is an art, not a trade; a calling, not a business; … William Osler
He visits doctors;
they have him in their palm.
He stays calm when a cardiologist listens
to his chest and says: “Oh yes,
I hear the pneumonia.”
His antibiotics have expired;
perhaps he should have more?
His knees are sore, he’s tired – is that a side effect
or what?
In hospital he shares room
with a hindu, who speaks only hindi.
The nurses say: “How can I help you,
Mr. Kumar.” Mr. Kumar answers in hindi.
“HOW CAN I HELP YOU, ” they
say louder.
He remembers they used
to bleed patients to make them well,
when at 5: 00 AM he is awakened
by a “ little stick.” Perhaps,
there are vampires in the cellar.
It’s such a hassle to pee
into a hand-held urinal, when
he can walk.
Someone is tracing his heart line;
someone with a white coat
has a hand on his throat.
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4/25/2024 10:52:59 AM # 1.0.0.1119
