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Viewing single post of blog Lessons in Anatomy:

She said she wanted to go

there. The Dissection Room

at Newcastle Med School.

So I pulled some strings,

and read her the rules.

“Sensible shoes?” she said.

“Yes Mother. Plus clothes

you don’t mind ruined.

Fixers, they don’t wash out.

The smell will get you,

but not of death.

More chemicals

like wax and rubber.”

But my mother, being my mother

didn’t seem to mind.

Walked right up to the

plastic head,

and stuck her hand inside.

“You won’t even know

I’m here,” she said.

Pulled on a dark-blue

lab coat. Then I set up

as I normally would;

with my mother

by my side.

She watched closely

as I unzipped the body bag.

Revealed cavities and cages.

Stood on tiptoes

to peer inside.

Never missed a beat.

So I placed a stool

three feet away;

her territory and mine.

When the students filed in

they looked at her,

the older woman

with colorful shoes.

Ignoring me completely.

So I coughed,

then talked too loudly

about a topic I knew so well.

My words underlined

with scribbling.

She used every trick in the book.

So I quizzed the students

and she daubed her paints,

and at the end they

crowded round her.

Admired her line

and brave use of color,

whilst I put all the organs back.

As the students left,

she called out to them.

“Call me Poppy,” she said.

They waved from the door.

“Weren’t they interesting?

What a wonderful body.

All those nooks and crannies.”

I slung the heart

in a plastic bag.

Looked at my watch before

herding her out.

“You need to go now.”

I said, disrobing her.

“Yes dear,” she said, then,

“Thank you.”

And as we went to the door,

she turned round and said,

 

“Shall we say the same time next week?”

 


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