8 of 30, 2015

Iron Lung

In the days before the reign
of the off-white plastic panel,
medicine had to look just a hair
better than dying. The cabinet
came close: lovechild of
Confederate submarine and the prop
from I-will-now-cut-
my-lovely-assistant-in-half. The kind
of armored breadbox heroes
are secreted away in right before
their parents' world is avalanched
by hubris. Flat-backed on the cookie tray
and then feet first like Jaws
swallowed Quint. The greatest
surrender to automation is a device
to embrace and let go, again
and again, when we tire.