Martin Lucindus Gedunk, MD,
Took his feet from his desk and regarded me
As he would have a germ beneath his lens,
Or an escapee from the cattle pens.
“You don’t live right!” His thunderous roar
Unnerved me completely. “And furthermore–“
I pleaded guilty; he sentenced me
To a diet of little besides weak tea.
Then he added., to insult, an injury
Which I called a fine and which he termed “fee”.
And, still without laughter upon his face,
He waved me out, and proclaimed “Next case!”
by Ray Romine Tuesday, May 8, 1951
