Surgery

Surgery

I need to book a surgery!
A nurse stands quietly before me,
her face as blank as her uniform.
I scream again -
I need to book a surgery!
nothing.
Weeping, tearing at my clothes, I fall to the floor rambling -
Something is inside of me!
It fills me more each day!
I can't escape it!
Please!
Please!

I scream -
I need to book a surgery!
I plead -
Remove this ache from my soul!
The sterile floor is cool on my face.
I'm sorry,
the nurse replied as she excused herself,
but the surgeon is dead.

Michael Lorne Leard
(Published in Carousel Magazine)