JH (January 4,1931 / a citizen of the world)

Anaesthetist

He said
calmly, professionally
without bamboozle;
You won't know a thing
until you recover in the
I C U - twenty four to
forty eight hours later.

They'll take the tube
out of your throat, the
one that kept you alive,
and make you cough.

Jesus, I thought - cough,
with my ribcage stapled?
He must have a sense of
diabloical humour - cough?

Problem is, he doesn't......

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Other poems of HUGHES (211)

Comments (14)

Dry humour and probably a painfully dry cough too!
Mr. Hughes, I solute you! I love your writing, it is so real and so amazing also Thank you so much! Blessings. Love and Light
Brilliant! Regards Sally.
haa haaa haaaaaaaaaaaaaa! ! loved this one
Reality is so hard to face and you have gone through heaps jerry and thank God for your sense of humor. It's like a lucky or unlucky dip picking out the prize of suffering in our latter years. Just hang in there with your wonderful Alison, your humor, your talent for writing (even if you only just look at what great stuff you have written) oh! and how you can read other poet's work! love Karin
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