the Doctor will see you now
the nurse announces into the hallway
she doesn't shout - only raising her voice a little
louder to get my attention.
i'm nervous, it's my first serious appointment.

as i sit down the stool, She looks into my pupils
it's an eye exam, She says
lightly brushing across my face
skincare is of importance, also sleep more
your eye bags aren't a good sign

grabs my arm, pinching it lightly
muscle density isn't all that bad,
her rope of iron is hooked onto Her ears
a small disk between Her fingers
breathe in, breathe out

a stethoscope!
it presses against my chest, the palpitations almost
minuscule, yet She grabs onto my arm
Her ears almost dance at each knock
fingers tap to my rhythm

Her stethoscope presses harder down my chest
it's almost as if my ***** is pushing back
against the now warm instrument
then it sinks, i swallow it
down, down, in! she pushes lightly into my skin

why is Her warm hand in my chest?
She sinks deeper and deeper in
until she grabs the soft fruit of my Eden
She's gentle, feeling every jump in my chest
this is supposed to happen?

Her fingers caress every vein, studying it,
tracing it, she notes down the rate in her head
no good, She says, getting faster by the minute
my sweat pouring down my neck
isn't making this any easier, is it?

then Her hand slips out
i didn't realize she needed no gloves
She notes down Her measurements
in...  a blog?
be sure to be back tomorrow

i stand up, button up my shirt
i am sure to be back tomorrow.

astrophysicists have a thing with black holes
that mass, their chalked out event horizons.
i always thought i could be an astrophysicist
i could peer through my telescope
equations would litter my chalkboard
i would map the celestial bodies and
black holes.
i think i am an astrophysicist.
every day i peer through my telescope
lenses millimeters thick
i sit anywhere
equations litter my head, my parchment
the black holes are strangely visible with
my telescope, the pair of them
they beckon at me
i can feel the gravitational pull
no, you're not fat
never
but your pull tugs at me, my strings
heartstrings
so does my vision that naturally gravitates towards them
i think i will publish my findings soon.
i think i am an astrophysicist.

for i seek not the
blessings of the stars nor the
endowment from the lords above.
i only ask that i have
my fortunes be spun by
my name.

amen.

One red leather seat
Eighty-seven red leather seats
Golden sheen of the mace
Black over their shoulders

White cloth banded over sight
Upright hand of upright spirit
A golden scale in one
The glimmering blade in another

Words carved on the starch
Under the flag, written
These that bond us
Restrict us, Set us, Show us

Yet when the path astray is led
The cries of
The rightful the just
Go mum and mute and silent and hushed

The red leather seats
In present turn into thrones of
Knives and fire
As Draco watches on, envious

In books, in schools
We preach, often
Events we fear we repeat
Words we fear we echo

But unbeknownst we do
Betwixt our hurried steps and
False grips on reality
We again allow its passage

First they came for
And I did not speak out
Because I was not
And there was no one left to speak for

Of fluttering strings
Blaring pipes on high
Striking of drums
Octaves played to certify

Footsteps on grey gravel
Mud soaked in forest terrain
Flags that flew unfurled
And braved the relentless rain

Sights and sounds that
Triggering notions of nostalgia
Reliving the anecdotes
Of our school-days euphoria

One hundred score thirteen
Shorts of our khaki hue
First stride in the institution
Grass still wet with morning dew

In your classrooms
Amongst all your courses
I learnt Versailles, prose
Our tongues and gravitational forces

Now one hundred score sixteen
An occasion for commemoration
Your anniversary, most celebratory
Jubilant emotions, nil cessation

Nil Sine Labore
A phrase we all reaffirm
For our uniting brotherhood
That we can confirm

Once again we all relived
The Spirit, burning without doubt
Not reignited, no
For it was never blown out

Eight, Three, Zero
Lighted flares, all directions streaming
Atmosphere exultant, saw not an opportunity for askewness
Waved banners, displayer of the iconic

Blue, White, Red
For the breeze ruffled these shades
Gallantly proclaiming, alas, the Republic
Dassault Rafale, engines roaring ahead

Nine, Zero, Zero
A precipitous shift in mood
The cheers were different, in fact
Almost as if fading

White, White, White
The vehicle shifts its gear
The man’s foot unforgivingly pressed on acceleration
Ploughing through, snowplow through ice

One, One, Two
They dial, no longer are
Their shouts for some celebratory cause
Tucked under the rubber, eternal slumber

Four, Score, Four
Young and free, they were not exempt
Fatimah, Jean, Brodie, Christianne
A lone rider, forlorn in cessation

Fourteen, Seven, Sixteen
A new motivation for commemoration
Juncture of remembrance
For the bravest hearts

Liberté, égalité, fraternité
Kept in *******, a formidable bulwark
War wages forth, yet for the Hexagon
We weep.