I’m not sure if this poem is about the price of organs or if it’s a love poem.
#???-Dirty heart surgery
I read somewhere today
that a human heart costs
four hundred and forty two
Now, I’m no doctor
and I’m certainly not
an organ dealer,
but I think I could fix your heart for much cheaper.
Now, now, before you get your hopes all high,
let me just say that my method for fixing hearts doesn’t work for everyone,
and it may take as long as a year before the process begins to work,
but my method is
much, much cheaper.
this is how the method works-
You give me a call,
I’ll go get us a bottle of wine.
We go down by the river,
and we drink that wine,
and we chat and we laugh and we see the river and the stars, and maybe we even skrew.
We do this now and again,
and mix in a regiment of me making you dinner,
and the two of us seeing movies and live music,
maybe throw in some road trips,
and of course,
hugs, kisses, late nights, and cuddling
are absolutely vital to my process.
we do this for some months,
and somewhere along the way,
I’ll just give you my heart.
Now, my heart can’t replace your heart,
and it’s not the greatest heart,
but it’ll beat just for you.
I must warn that this may not be a permanent fix,
and could eventually cause more damage,
but in fairness,
the risk is just as great for me.
So, before you hand out
four hundred and forty two thousand
to some idiot doctor,
give me a call,
let’s see what I can do for you.
I really like the idea
of my heart beating for you,
doesn’t that sound