Tonight's Poet Corner: She Drinks Chloroform
She Drinks Chloroform
by Belinda Roddie
She drinks chloroform
every other night, just so
she can get her stomach pumped at
one o'clock in the morning, because
that's when the hot nurse works - the
graveyard shift, which is ironic because a
hospital prefers to be the
opposite of a cemetery. He
always asks her, "Miss, how
is it that every time I come to work,
there you are, poisoned like a hostage,
waiting for me to stuff a hose down your
gullet?" And she replies, with that
soggy black look in her eye, "It's those
dang cold remedy preparations - they
always seem to have something nasty in them!"
Shame how it's all devised; when the jealous
doctor finds out, he prescribes, for a
final visit, cyanide.
by Belinda Roddie
She drinks chloroform
every other night, just so
she can get her stomach pumped at
one o'clock in the morning, because
that's when the hot nurse works - the
graveyard shift, which is ironic because a
hospital prefers to be the
opposite of a cemetery. He
always asks her, "Miss, how
is it that every time I come to work,
there you are, poisoned like a hostage,
waiting for me to stuff a hose down your
gullet?" And she replies, with that
soggy black look in her eye, "It's those
dang cold remedy preparations - they
always seem to have something nasty in them!"
Shame how it's all devised; when the jealous
doctor finds out, he prescribes, for a
final visit, cyanide.
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