'Art needs an operation.'
-Tristan Tzara
Art
has a swelling
as large
as a grapefruit.
She
FIGHTS
for breath
-chuffing and panting.
A team of physicians
-diagnosticians-
takes samples
with needles.
Each test
comes back
the same.
Who will
tell Art
the prognosis
is bleak?
Who will advise her
her last days
are best spent
at home?
Please explain why you did write this poem...is it the art in surgery for some one sighing or is it the real art... It looks you are speaking about sick bodies... Where none can help after many surgeries...!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Who will tell Art the prognosis is bleak? Wonderful imagination Art as the subject. tony