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ON THE VISIT OF THE DOCTORS TO MY CELL

The doctors are coming,
this odd, mystic morning
to cart our corpses to the ruling
magician at whose bland bidding
hospitals become clinics become
mortuaries and surgeons morticians
dancing with military politicians
to band hits of a cruel symphony
makes of a crude cacophony
finetuning physicians phoney.

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ON THE VISIT OF THE DOCTORS TO MY CELL Copyright © 2017 by Text, letters and images: Copyright © 2013 John Paul II Library, Maynooth University, Republic of Ireland. Ken Saro-Wiwa’s poems: © 2013 Ken Saro-Wiwa Estate. All Rights Reserved.

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