poem
My SonWhen a young dad saysmy sonHe means it mostly in the possessiveSelf enhancing sense:Fruit of my loins!Bearer of hopes and dreamsRedeemer of past sinsContinuation of my nameThe boy as object: As silver Porsche As plasticine trophy wife As wall of degrees As go rake the leavesAs, here ’s a word of advice young manwhen I was a kid I used toHandle thingsAs vassalAs once and future king It ’s the bombastic bellow of the man in fullJust before an untimely fall:Behold my boy!But the older dad whispersIt with a whiff of apologetic Ruefulness. It ’s not solely ...
Source: Buckeye Surgeon - June 23, 2022 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs
poem
Love is the GuideLove is the guide that takes us Deep beneath uncharted seasPast the white skeletons of coralPast the sunken Clipper shipsWith their holds of briny treasuresBeyond the penetrance of lightWhere the only non darknessEmits from the bioluminescence Of undulating alien creatures Stay right here, love instructs us,I ’ll bring oxygen and masks.And we do. We like it hereWe like this sinking feeling Of a world pressed tightly against usA pressure that could crush us.Love always looks back onceOn its way back to the surface And smiles at our trusting facesAs we exhale the last b...
Source: Buckeye Surgeon - June 21, 2022 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs
poem
Men in ShortsI don't want to becomeThat old man in shortsPale legs like crustacean claws Black-dyed hair middle-partedCombed back and blow driedBounding across the parking lotWith a self satisfied lopeThat wilts the dandelions nearby You don't need to see my legsWhen I ’m old and senescent I'll be in pants, in comfortable shoesSitting over there on the benchCrew cut gray, black glasses Pretending to read a bookAbout ecological catastrophesWatching the the world go byAll the young men in suitsStrutting with leather attaches Whistling brash tunesThey ’ll someday call Regret Whispering ...
Source: Buckeye Surgeon - June 14, 2022 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs
poem
TiredThere ’s tired and then there’stiredDead tiredDog tiredTongue wagging Beat as a whipOut like a light Ready to dropYou lose your focusLike half way drunkOr just deeply depressed But no, it ’s just tirednessFuzzy headed, briefLapses of consciousnessOvertired, my ex-wife Used to call itSure, whatever.Miserable as f.I ’m tired?Asleep on my feetEither dreaming I was in another lifeWith urine all over the tablesOr on the verge of wakingFrom a mildly disturbing nightmare6/15/22 (Source: Buckeye Surgeon)
Source: Buckeye Surgeon - June 14, 2022 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs
poem
Op Note XXVAfter a while it starts to seem unreal. All this putting to sleep and prepping of flesh, this cutting and excising of tumors and organs. Some come in too late. They die. There ’s labor and delivery down the hall. Replacements on the way. But then you wander one night on the upper wards, alone. Dead, dead, dead, soon to die. You feel like you're someone else. No, not someone, something else. A different form of being. Not like this patient or that. Not like the GSW in bay 2. The rigid belly in slot 14. They all have medical record num...
Source: Buckeye Surgeon - June 14, 2022 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs
poem
CursiveOld mom sent me a card for Father ’s DayShe never does that, how nice!Telling me she ’s proud of meHow good of a dad I am, She ’s sweet.She used to write so beautifullyIn a lovely looping cursive scriptThat ought to be its own font.You could wear her written wordsAs jewelry or decorate your kitchen curtains With complex repeating patternsOf herDear Jeffs andLove Moms. She ’s older now and her hand shakes a bitAnd that elegant penmanship Yaws with a tremored wobbleLike a dodgy arterial line tracing.It makes me sad, how all beauty Eventually begins to tremble,Quivering down...
Source: Buckeye Surgeon - June 12, 2022 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs
poem
CoagulationBlood dries so fastLike mud spattered againstMy pants, the oppositeOf water or wineClotting even after It's been shed, vainlyTrying to save usEven when it ’s too late And we ’ve run out of time.I like to think my heart wouldContinue to beat, at leastFor a few agonized seconds,Fibrillating on a stone slabIn the secret place Where I decided to take it outAnd show you 6/5/22 (Source: Buckeye Surgeon)
Source: Buckeye Surgeon - June 5, 2022 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs
poem
Op Note XXIVIt took some hunting but there it was. Dangling from the liver almost taunting us. Whenever I got close enough it would dart right or left. Frisky little sucker. Finally I secured it, clipped it, extracted it through a small aperture. We put it on a blue towel and cut it open like someone displaying a kill from an African safari. Instead of an ivory husk or a jade stone there was an eyeball, lolled back in the lid of the fundus.Oh my god, what is that?the med student exclaimed. The eyeball looked both terrified and rapturous. Even without the rest of the face. That look of se...
Source: Buckeye Surgeon - June 5, 2022 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs
poem
Not QuiteEven in the shadow gray just before it rains There's always a small smile on your faceThinking how nice it will smellOnce the sun shines down againEven when you ’re all alone You always appear unperturbedKnowing how good it will feelTo be clutched again Or sitting Buddha likeOn the bottom of the poolChest burning and turning blueBursting with joyous desire just to breathe You wallow in filthKnowing how refreshingThat hot shower will feelWhen the grit and grime run offAnd after, shivering naked, Dripping tap tap on a tiled floorThere ’s a towel tumbling in the dryerThat will wrap ...
Source: Buckeye Surgeon - June 3, 2022 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs
poem
EclairWe want to be known.Someone to be seen throughThe mists and veilsNo one controls How we ’re viewed Doctor customer poetOr random guy in the hallThe lady with robust browsThe kid pilfering chocolate eclairs When the moms are all talking You get seen no matter whatIt isn't for you to tellThe gawker in the streetWhat he ought to be seeing Look at yourself 5/31/22 (Source: Buckeye Surgeon)
Source: Buckeye Surgeon - May 31, 2022 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs
poem
Op Note XXIIIThe child rolled into the OR clinging to life. We opened him up. There was a warm gun steaming right there in the middle of the carnage. Bullets caterwauling. A liver shredded A spleen like beef tossed into a cage. I took off my gloves. I tore my mask. I breathed in the sulfurous fumes of the almost dead. It was a Beretta, a SIG Sauer, a Glock 19. AR 15. AR 15. I remembered that AR doesn ’t stand for automatic rifle or assault rifle. It means ArmaLite. Which is just a brand. Like Whirlpool. Like Frito Lay. It ’s important you don’t attack straw ...
Source: Buckeye Surgeon - May 26, 2022 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs
poem
IslandEvery island is a mountain in the middle of the oceanAnd every mountain is an island stranded in a dry seaI imagine you ’re the warm tropical surfLapping against my wind lashed stone It ’s the perfect combination:A damaging wisdom mixed with lust Some stars become someone ’s honored SunBut all Suns are just someone else ’s star Will we stay here long enoughTo see our home become a ruins?Can we bear to watch a raw weeping woundScab over and someday thicken into scar?The opposite of love was never hateFor the loveless are simply the lonely. On this dry plain I prefer to call myself an ...
Source: Buckeye Surgeon - May 22, 2022 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs
poem
Op Note XXII remembered the patient from clinic. When I came into the room the first thing she said was can you please wash your hands. I ’m like whatever. I always use that foamy stuff in the hall but it isn ’t a big deal. So I start washing them, soap and water, a good old scouring. The other side please, she says. Huh? I look at her. The OTHER side, she pleads. Oh the back of my hands I realize. So I do the full enchilada, churning the flesh of my hands into a froth of disinfecting soap. I rinse them off. Praying that she finds the tongue of paper tow...
Source: Buckeye Surgeon - May 21, 2022 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs
poem
Poem #41Sometimes I wake Up and there ’s no poetry anywhereWhich is another way of feeling Everything devoid of meaning.The coffee is just the coffeeA hot liquid in a Dad mug The birdsong a noise on the otherSide of the windowMy body just my bodySame as it always is Define windowDefine worldDefine bodyI have the answers but none of them is poetryI don't like it like this Life as a series of minutes and secondsA space where objects are arrayed.It pinches the heart.Without a poemThere ’s no threadWith which to weave Together the world of things But now the coffee is goneWork becko...
Source: Buckeye Surgeon - May 21, 2022 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs
poem
Bad AnkleRolled my bad ankle againChasing after a ball in high-soledShoes at a kid soccer game.Such a dummy So stupid but I was just trying to helpThe same way I keep Breaking your heartOver and over againIn all same waysIt used to just get better With the passage of timeNow, a dull ache always lingersI don ’t believe in the healingPowers of time anymoreToo much damage has been doneThere ’s always surgery.Clean it out, get it fixed or fusedBut then I ’d be someone elsePatched but no longer young.I might be able to jog againBut I ’ll never just Run 5/19/22 (Source: Buckeye Surgeon)
Source: Buckeye Surgeon - May 19, 2022 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs
