Transparent Words - Poetry

 
The System
 
By Sheila E. Murphy

 

 
Each one has an ornate fresh-from-the-car-lot kind of sickness that takes
specialists to brew. 
 
I left there.  And I did it under orders of a seasoned intuition.  May have
been forty-two or something. Select societies consider that experienced while
others note a plethora of younger death certificates.
 
If you lunch with the inhabitants, you hear about penultimate procedures in
the clinic. Where a crowding pattern has been rained upon by raw material and
stethoscopes.
 
What has proliferated past those walls is hope. I ordered the same thing as
one whose husband is on hold with signals of impermanence. No wonder men
watch football.  And no wonder many women take it up.  It's breezeworthy to
sit in a short row looking at primary hues be blended into something
arguable.
 
I have grown good at listening.  If you stay within the box, or even if you
know precisely where the box is, you will build properties of adaptation for
remaining in the box. The symptoms usually are obvious.  The cure is often on
the faculty of the imagination.
 
Mine is lively as the whine of a small plane. Known goings strike us as
particularly safe.  I'm reluctant to put much starch into this metaphor, but
I can tell you personality's the thing to hone.  And humor, keep it muscled
as a stone.

Pg06

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