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Y incision closed,
samples taken, prepared for tests.
Twenty years of whoring finished,
streetwalks ended, death.
Preliminary report,
find a similar case.
A dozen like it.
Open File. Double click.
Change name, age 35 not 32,
injuries slightly different,
old fracture left not right,
extensive bruising the same.
Insert. “Transection at C3. Fatal,
consistent with fall/blow to neck”.
Save as, “A Life,”
complete in three and a half minutes.
End of the day,
Doctor departs the mortuary
to early evening warm
her walk down Parramatta Road.
Over the footbridge to Glebe,
home, comfort, a good dinner,
“Schubert”, wine and talk with David,
of their small events and day.
The same street walked
for twenty years.
A life, complete,
Bagged, zipped and filed away.
Here's a good one
from a few months back;
of lives interchangeable
and in death, unchanged ~
insignificant...
Very different choice of subject possibly your best to date but maybe "Daisy" is still there.
such a topic is difficult to come to conclusion... my feelings so mixed, but the presentation is easy to comment on. Word choice and tone build the meaning and feel of this poem. nice work-
annaswirls
at the way these casualties end up as nameless statistics who are only routinelely acknowledged then discarded from thought at the end of the day.
I like this. The feeling I get reading this is both routine in work and sadness at the end of the day, walking the same road as the woman she just examined. I work in an emergency room and treat patients all day. Faces are not a blur yet, there is still emotion behind what I do and I believe when there isn't then it's time to quit.
Very good work and as Syndra said, this one makes a reader think.