the body of poetry

    I can't help it. Each time I open a contribution to the poetry
    discussion I keep seeing Professor Tulp's Anatomy Lesson.
    There they are: all of them in their beards & ruffs; John in his big
    black hat, one hand holding the forceps, the other raised in exquisite
    definition; Jim bent forward peering at the corpse's genitals; Dan
    looking out at the rest of us in honest bafflement. The only one
    missing is Kim in her maid's pinny, holding the bucket for slops.

    The thing is, chaps, I think he may still be alive. Before discussing
    the extensor digiti minimus you should try a little mouth-to-mouth.
    It's rather nauseating of course & can often end in embarrassment,
    but if one - or all - of you just bent down & risked your own breath
    you might, you never know, inspire him back to life. Worth a try.
    We won't laugh.

    As Miss Doolittle 'sang': 'Don't talk at all. Show me.'

    Scottie B.

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Received on Tue Jul 1 03:58:58 2003