Clean Feet Poem by Jan Oskar Hansen

Clean feet

I had a check-up about my diabetes, but first I had
to see the nurse who did the physical work testing this and that,
do you want to see my feet? No, she said it is not needed.
To think I had scrubbed my feet pink, between the toes too,
like cardinal waiting for the pope to kiss his feet.
The foot kissing is a ritual humiliation to keep the pope humble.
I noticed the nurse´s dress looked crumbled as she had slept
In her uniform, perhaps she had done a double shift,
she also had a restless leg. I found tense, and a prominent larynx, or maybe she needed a pee.
The doctor spoke to the computer everything was ok, liver
blood pressure, and so on, the doctor looked like a cute mouse a narrow face and small ears, her
hospital coat was starched.
I told her my feet were better. I said that hoping she would have a look, but no, she smiled politely
and wished me a good day.