For A Most Handsome Weed - Jerry H. Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

Just two fingers will guide the sharp blade
neither patient nor doc are afraid.
Since the patient is out
like a beached rainbow trout
he is missing the masquerade.

All in green is the surgeon, (nice chap) .
Somewhat Russian his tight fitting cap.
As he saws into bone
near the critical zone
good old Jerry is taking a nap.

And he dreams of his friends in this place
as a flicker now crosses his face.
One small tear flows due south
stops just short of his mouth
and it leaves a small silvery trace.

Deep inside now the hands, full of skills
cut those tissues like stainless steel mills.
In the basin they go
then he zaps a fresh flow
knowing sometimes a fresh bleeder kills.

Jerry smiles as he's far from the action
then his hand moves a very small fraction.
Is it something that itches
soon he has him in stitches
and for both there is self-satisfaction.

In recovery Jerry plays dumb.
To the nurse he says please scratch my bum.
They are kind and assist
but he aims to enlist
a delivery girl for some rum.

Tells the surgeon about Penderyn,
that it's rare and expensive as sin.
Says the doc I was sure
that you'd drink the stuff pure
and he put on his innocent grin.

So they sat on the side of the bed
while the nurses were out, being fed.
Drank from medicine cups
like two homeless old grubs
said our jerry, 'this beats being dead.'

And the surgeon said, 'yes I agree,
just imagine my friend how you'd be
if we HAD sipped this sauce
I'd have cut straight across
from appendix straight down to the knee.'

So it proves that it COMES down to time
(and the skill of the poet's own rhyme) .
Leave the surgeon alone
and let's hope he is prone
to a squash, either lemon or lime.

All our thoughts are afloat in the air,
just look up if you want to and care.
For that afternoon shot
(you may like it or not) ,
strip those covers, your bum must be bare.

I remember you sampled the life
in those clinics, so far from your wife.
Just make sure to be brave
get your rest and behave
even bedpans can get you in strife.

I shall speak with the voice of my brothers,
and the ones that are known as 'the others'.
We do wish you God speed
and, remember, each weed
will surprise and survive their own mothers.