The Lumbar Spine

The Spine   8/ 20 /16

I do not recommend it - 

Surgery of the spine

Of any kind,

Unless it is absolutely necessary.

Not fun, not a sport.

Nothing of the sort, 

We put it off for a year, 

Or more,

Dr. Matusz and I,

Until I could barely walk.

And then -  

After the event,

(I wasn’t even there)

The hospital stay 

(Oh, yes.. I was certainly there)

 The recovery - 

(I remember being there.)-

I could walk!  Miles! 

Even run for the bus

And so I did want to thank him,

For this new life

But he said,

Instead of that usual Thank -You Letter-

Draw me a sketch

Of the lumbar posterior     

So -

Here is the lumbar spine 

And a few things it does.

It bends you in half, you know, 

Let’s you touch your toe.

It does not twist - 

That is the  job of the thoracic -                

And it does not nod -

The cervical takes care of
The noggin.

The surgery and its aftermath,  

May not have been fun,

But a gift to the Doc

Was a hard-won ton of …..

A Hell of a lot of …

…Fun

The Photographer at Drive East

At the Drive East.   

The man next to me 

Photographing the presentation

Of Drive East, Indian Dance and Music 

At Dixon Place off the Bowery,

(Once famous only for It's 
Bums)
Had a garden on his arm.  

At least that is what I saw,

Until I realized the snake above it.

It was his life story, he said.

Ah, the Garden of Eden, I thought

Until I really looked at the snake;

Unfinished, just outlined,-

Mouth opened and snarling -  

Was not the seductive smiling snake

That took Eve by surprise with that

Lucious Apple.

No, this was something else.

?

The Sunflower Tattoo

The Sunflower Tattoo

The woman on the bus

With sunflower tattoos -

Bright, yellow -
The yellow of an egg's moist yolk -
Struck me from where I sat.

At least, they seemed like sunflowers

Three on her left arm, one on the other.

My stop was next - 

I would never have another chance.

And so - 
I made my way towards her, 
“Do you mind if I ask you why 

You choose those particular tattoos?”

Always a delicate moment.

She smiled.

“I always want my pets with me.”

I looked closer as she held out her arm.

Where the centers of the flowers usually were,

Where the seeds gather in their swirls,

Were portraits of her

Pets.

True portraits, in detail, 

Their names circling above them.

She pointed to the lone portrait of a dog

High on her right arm

Surrounded by the halo of golden petals.

“He died,”   she said.  “I couldn’t bear it. 

It was my first tattoo.”

The sunflower leaves swirled down

To things the dog must have loved -

Doggie - Bone shaped biscuits, for instance.

On her left arm surrounded by
Their own halos of petals
Were two dogs, a cat between them

And down below, on a stem, a frog

And further, on a large green leaf, 
A tiny, red lady bug.
They must have loved the country,

Choosing sunflowers; 

Somewhat of a heaven for the animals she loves;

Their portraits in the center of their own golden suns.