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Under the Knife
- University of Arkansas Press
- Chapter
- Additional Information
In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:
Under the Knife The whole earth is our hospital. —T. S. Eliot I dream of his hands Gloved in blood, my blood, His fingers counting down Every knob on my backbone, And finding there the nerve That worsens, waiting for The slip of a late blade. I’m not too numb to feel The fear, or a sharp touch That will cut the future free. In the dark, under a solar Zone of lamps, in the cold And nightmare mess of flesh, I cannot spare myself, Even in sleep, or break The spell that keeps me now At the mercy of a slow surgeon. 31 • • • ...
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