Dropping the Lamb
If you're alone in the kitchen and drop the lamb, you can always just pick it up. Who's going to know it?-Julia ChildImagine a neurosurgeon in scrubs
hunched over a dead man's chart
writing loops and strands of
illegible as pasta
lying on a plate.
Imagine the quick snip of day-old
a scalpel slicing a crust of blood,
the careful retraction of scalp and
to retrieve a wad of gauze
left behind like yesterday's paper
on the back seat of a bus.
And imagine the patient's
herniating through the foramen
in less time than it takes a lamb
to drop from counter to floor,
how suddenly the heart stops
nothing left but a post-op note
written the way Julia would
wipe blood off the kitchen floor.