Hospital Rhymes

Let the florist’s flowers wilt –
let the hospitals fill up and empty:
let whatever has to heal get well
and wish whatever has to go to Hell
Godspeed: Existence breeds
the demon seed of illness, birth

and death: seems to need to feed,
and feed on, breath (evil, backwards:
live, like jive, and live, like give):
gets a bead on tumult, shoots,
uproots and leaves you in the lurch.
Doesn’t help to go to church.

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