The Checkup
My issue is with the last part of that word. Up.
No one goes to a doctor because they're feeling
too much healthy.
You want to know what is not how it should be.
He taps your knee, fondles you all over.
There is always that moment, cold stethoscope
on the chest --
when you're sure the next words spoken will be,
Get your will in order.
See, there is nothing at all "up" about that!
But I guess we do the same with our cars.
We take them in for a tune-up.
Thing is, now my complaint involves the first part.
Never once have I heard a nice song playing
as I reach for my credit card.
-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2014 --
2 comments:
Rather fond of this one, I must say!
C.
Crowded deserts
Heartless heads
Echoing....
Clouds melt
Kisses disperse
Ubi Amor
People Mourn.
Lia Gréco
Sad eh? Mini Billy Collins!!
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