live stock

my doctor takes a look
at what ails me.
tells me to look up.
so I do.
he takes my pulse.
my blood pressure.
weighs me.
there are no personal
questions.
I am live stock.
his white coat is crisp.
the one pen
a black stripe in his
pocket.
his hair is parted on
the side
and has the gleam of
water in the thick
part.
he stares into the screen
and reads
to me what he's seen.
I say nothing, then leave
with a sleeve
of papers.
he points to the door
and says be well.
pharmacy is on the ground
floor.