Floating Toward the Light

[Snowbells]

(Hi; not sure this should be called free-verse?)

Floating Toward the Light

I rub the nub;
is that supposed to happen
in males? Soreness, aching
‘round the nipple

Let’s find out today
but shall I die of old age before the hospital
admission process ends?

Finally on the gurney--
Nurse asks:
any removable dentures? contacts?
rings?

Nope; I cut off the tight wedding band
just for you
(nurse’s pitying smile says nothing)

Anesthesiologist appears. Hi, I’m Dr. Brdsnuloharin . . . .
My unimpressed reply: Hello there, Dr. Sandman

Why are we here?

Havin’ my breast reduced

Wife rolls eyes:
no! removal of a possible malignant tumor

East-Indian lady surgeon bounces in—an hour late,
but great sense of humor
“I’m heeeeeere!”

I make her wait;
won’t be denied--

can’t spot urinal
but manage spotting sheets

Clattering wheels on worn floor;
uh-ooh

Loony song runs through mind,
“They’re coming to take me away”

From gurney to operating table--
handled like cadaver

never been heave-hoed so much

Bright lamp overhead.
I hear Poltergeist’s dwarf “Tangina” cry
“Don’t go into the light!”

Wonder where my soul will be in a minute--
probably sitting on the surgeons shoulder

I’m shirtless, bareback--
hovering, watching myself--
I drift over to coffee shop--
the nurses’ station--enjoying my time out of body--
floating heavenward—hey, not yet!

Awake;
attractive nurse leans over me

Feel disconnected,
can’t get excited about
her pendant--cleavage--
Eventually ponder pointlessness
of breasts on males--off-limit females.