My chiropractor wears a pyramidal hat,
an airy thing of welded rods that
focus energy from God knows where
to some point deep inside his skull.
But when he cracks my neck, he does it well.

The family therapist
employed to help us heal
is screwing Linda on the side
or from behind, it’s hard to tell.
He complains of never being paid,
then takes it out in trade.

The shaman offers sage advice:
“burn sage, smells nice.”
My oncologist smokes Camels
and the Camels smoke him back.

 

Forum Comments:Fear of Physicians
Image Credit:Hans Splinter
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Jim Aitken was a veteran of Vietnam, colo-rectal cancer, three wives, two divorces, two MAs. Jim was a screenwriter and editor of Poetry Circle. He lived with his son, Joe, in Colorado, and died in 2016.

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