The assistant tells me
stand on the scale
let me weigh your body
He proffers a foggy cup
inching closer and says
now move your bowels.
Clerical hens
Tapping away at the keys
Sidelong glances past the lychee.
I trapped a pellet like feed
and offer my shit to someone
anyone who wants a piece of me
(not a place for jokes
apparently)
–my self
In four cornered plastic sheets.
Don’t call
We’ll call you.
Doctor if anything’s wrong–
just wait. Wait
and place that worry on ice.
