-A found poem by Tayla Curran, excerpted from The House of God, by Samuel Shem, pp. 72, 79, 186, 268, 307, 311, 333, 343, 351, 381, 467, 503, 505, and 507.
Not a tired speck at the edge of a vast unseen interstellar black,
But a king who knows his kingdom,
Unashamedly a hero,
Blinded by the fantasy of being a real doctor
These pathetic men were powerful men
Treating the untreatable
Blue Cross payments for holding hands
The gap between what was human and what was inhuman expands
Expanding to fill the world
He embraces himself even more,
Separating me from them
Knowing if you show a crack, you’ll shatter
Demonstrating our ignorance
Sweetheart, you can’t become a real doc without killing a few patients at the least.