The Wet Nurse

When I was younger,

I was in the hospital for an incurable disease.

Since then, my disease has been cured.

I have a story to tell,

About that time when I was in the hospital

For months and months.

I would eat that dirty rotten hospital food,

Every day, each day, Sunday through Saturday.

I’d eat it and often deliver it later, up my throat.

But that isn’t the story part that you are waiting for.

You are waiting for the point,

That I tell you about the wet nurse.

I was unable to cleanse myself,

I was a dirty rotten bastard,

Just like the food I ate.

So, If I’m dirty every day.

Rotten every day.

Then I need a cleaning every day.

This is my story,

About the time I was in the hospital

For months and months with an incurable disease.

Each day a nurse would wash me.

She’d cleanse me, she’d bathe me.

She made sure I was clean.

The nurse was beautiful, in her classic white attire.

Bending me gently up in bed,

Taking a sponge to my dirty rotten skin.

Every day she did this,

For months and months in the hospital.

Every day so very kind.

My story doesn’t end, there is one last thing, I have to admit.

I was hard, like my nurse was wet.

Nothing ever did happen, except that I’ve been cured.

© 2007 David Greg Harth

07.08.31.11:20:11@599BwayNYC