by Nick Gisburne
The surgeon mixes poetry with play
Obsessions only he can understand
He chuckles, chopping flesh and bone away
Embracing the unorthodox, the banned
With every cut, a meaningless taboo
A bureaucratic footnote from the rules
Is severed as the scalpel slices through
Exquisitely extracted by his tools
For decades, stealthy, secretive, at night
His work has warped the sensitive elite
Releasing one more patient, with delight
He understands his calling is complete
His clients are the standard of success
A parody, a perfect, plastic mess
