every now and then I go in
to the dermatologist to have her
freeze or scrape off
a bump, or blemish, or something
she looks at with
raised eyebrows and an oh my
grimace on her face.
she yanks out this gizmo
cannister, which I prefer over
the scalpel, and pulls the trigger
at the top of my head. a blast of
freezing cold chemically induced air,
pulverizes
the suspicious spot.
where can I get one of those,
I ask her. amazon?
no, she says, laughing. you
have to go to med school first
and get a white smock, like
mine with your name on it.
get an office, blah blah blah.
you're no fun, I tell her.
shut up she says and roll over.
take your shirt off, I have
work to do. you really like the sun,
don't you, she says,
as I feel the blast of cold air
hit my skin.
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