image (graphic images)
Whores
by Richard Berlin, M.D.
When I raise my rates
he folds his fifty
dollar co-pay
and slides it up
my desk
like an enlisted man
on leave
easing a big
bill in a stripper's G-string.
He tells me
I'm like his war-
time whore
who loved him
on payday
and left
when his money
ran dry.
Each week
I lead him
in our dance,
excite him
with my offer
to listen to his dreams.
And I tell myself I do it
to ease his suffering,
because I get paid,
because I took an oath.
But every month,
when we devour
another round
of sessions,
I fill out forms
for insurance pimps
who won't pay
unless I reveal
the private parts.
poem
one way to support the troops
another way to support the troops
one way to support the Iraqi people
many other ways to support the troops and the Iraqi people
one way to support victims of torture
one way to witness every day