Doctor, probe me there and here;
Press and thump, have fun, old dear.
Check my height and my digestion;
Make me sick just by suggestion;
That’s an arm, doc, maul and grind it;
Feel my pulse if you can find it.
Tell me that you do not give
A whole lot for the way I live.
Check my plumbing and my heating;
Note at least my heart is beating .
And my blood; there should be ample
Of it there to make a sample.
Go ahead and question: strive at
Answers I had thought were private.
Take away big strong cigars;
Keep me out of dives and bars.
Stick me on a diet neat
Of things I cannot stand to eat.
Diagnose me, smooth as satin–
Shoot it all to me in Latin.
Do with me, doctor, as you will:
But OPERATE upon the bill.
by Ray Romine Monday, March 24, 1952
