Michael Estabrook on the Other Side of the
cadavers
Some of these guys sitting like
termite hills all slumped
over in the sand
pot-bellied, pale-fleshed,
are wealthy I know,
run their own companies,
hire and fire workers with
a snap of their uncaring
fingers. Maybe some
even extort money, commit adultery,
beat their children and wives.
But out here beneath
the sun at the ocean's edge
they all look the same
reminding me of being
in medical school so many years ago
dissecting cadavers.
They all looked the same there,
too, except for distinguishing scars
or a missing finger or toe
or being very fat or very skinny.
And at that time I thought:
we're all the same in the end.
But now I know we're all the same
from the beginning, all of us,
except of course for the Mozarts,
Einsteins, Dantes, Shakespeares,
Rembrandts, Cleopatras,
and Joans of Arc.
© Copyright Michael Estabrook 2007