Set a table for the auctioneer,

the gavel comes crashing down,

going once, going twice,

how long before the patient goes,

we bid for them, but only

if they live for six months or more

as the cost is too high,

we bid also

but can we inspect the merchandise first,

give it a good going over, see its history,

not a person, a thing, an item, cracked

and worn, smoked once, we don’t want you,

had a sip of gin at a nephew’s wedding,

you’re not for us, walked along alone at night,

played sport, perhaps sprained an ankle,

pinched a nerve, slipped over on ice,

enjoyed life just too much, travelled,

had sex, cried, emotionally tired,

once had dreams and aspirations…

well we don’t want you,

fell in love…

stop the auction, defective goods,

a badly made copy, a victim of false advertising,

set a table for the auctioneer,

let the  gavel fall,

a perfect human we have space in our facility for,

a thousand a month,

sold.

 

Ian D. Hall 2017