exam room 1

they tell me to wait.
out the window 
of the white room
is a creek full of dancers.
ribbons in the water.
pink comes like supper.
a bell in my throat.
i am here to remove my body.
i plan to tell the doctor
"go one bone at at time
until find which one is wrong."
they always peer
beneath the skin
like looking into an oven
to check if the turkey is done.
they will try to convince you
that you are close. give you
as many portals 
as you ask for. a circus
of blood. the chart
where i am a live specimen. 
i come here like 
an altar call. like "i can 
become a believer 
if you can make this better."
out the window, i watch
as the dancers are eaten
by a bear. the creek runs 
indigo. purple corn fields.
a car alarm. the doctor returns 
with a handful of hair.
puts the hair in my back pocket.
he says, "count the moons 
until they weather down
to the size of a thumb nail.
then you will be done."
i listen because there's no one else
to ask. he looks at my body quickly 
with a lollipop in his mouth. 
sucking sugar. 
he pulls out a rib & says,
"come back to me in six months."
tosses the rib in the sink 
& brushes the dust off his hands.
i don't even manage to ask him
to take just one more.
i was thinking my femur
or maybe even just
the rib's twin.