Religious Thought

Within the Hospital
Kind hearted nurses
Tend the ill
Washing the old man
Front and behind
Giving a thrill.
Dedicated doctors
Are serving mankind.

Lifelong careers and daily jobs
Of pompous, sadistic,
Surgeons, consultants,
Cold callous nurses
Cheery to the dying,
Spouting banalities
Out of their gobs.

Meaningless deaths
Meaningless misery
Ditto satisfactions,
Ditto first breaths

What they say about nurses
You know what they say,
They say they enjoy it
In different positions
Retaining in memory,
All they have touched
In the course of the day,
Shit and corpses,
Old men's arses.

Now Jesus is known
To be no less dead,
Than the stiffs in the mortuary
The symbol of life
Is the nurse in orgasm.
The death is the bad
The fuck is the good
The birth is the hope
Of the sometime fuck.
Then time takes all.
That which is left
Is the house, the flat,
The car, the tv programme,
The National Health Service
The surreptitious wank.

They would destroy meaning,
These medical materialists
(Including the Catholics),
In cold contemplation,
Of sordid exits
Unbearable bereavements.

If there is in life
Some means of making it good
They try to hide it from you
Killing your magic,
Calling for faith
In what now serves for God,
Some ill thought idea
That horror is not reality.
That life is not bad,
That the never ending whirligig
Need not drive you mad.

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