Bruce McRae

The doctor will see you now.
The young intern swinging
his stethoscope in a devil-may-care fashion.
The old surgeon, his cigarette
dangling from a quivering lower lip.
The flimflam MD, his phony doctorate
actually a certificate in plumbing.
And kindly Doc Thompson,
who´s watched them come and seen them go,
entire generations gone missing.
He´s speaking with little Jenny now.
"Am I going to die?" she asks him.
"As sure as sugar, darlin´," he says.
"As sure as shooting."