MacDonald’s Health Care

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                                                  When disease clobbers your temple

while the church of your body collapses

into the middle of your feet,

hold your arteries together.

Will your blood

to remain off the dirty floor.

Force yourself in the door.

                                              Face the dour receptionist

waiting for payment. Watch

her turn to stone. Faint later.

 

[No one saw you come in, sicko.]

SUCK IT UP.

                                                                   Notice the dingy clinic.

Five hours await you. 

Nobody needs to know why

you’re hurting. Drag your pathetic cow’s

ass  back out of here. Can’t you see

the line? Don’t expect compassion, we’re

burnt out. We train to do one job. Well,

that doesn’t really include you. Don’t

figure into this stupid equation. We

greet you, carry the missal

hold the power. Don’t bother frowning,

look behind you. See the others bow,

wait in line.

                                                                           We don’t give tips.

Do you think we’re grateful to baby boomer’s?

 

There are masses

of you expendables.

This isn’t benediction,

this is treatment,

                                                                               THIS IS REVENGE.

Cheaper faster better,

isn’t that what you taught us?

Pray, survive, you’ll see the MD

for five minutes. Don’t hold your breath.

What’s your beef?                                           This is billion dollar profit efficiency.

Don’t expect her to read

your chart. 

You’ll get your script.

    Please avoid

bleeding on the floor.

         Otherwise,  join the cemetery across the street

 

~ by dianeklammer on February 20, 2013.

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