Mohs Survivor

 by John Krajci

“She’s a stripper!” I cried,
the name Vicki Levine churning up
memories of Gypsy Rose Lee
and Meiling, girl of my
bamboo dreams
At our next encounter
slender-firm fingers
sliced away
with surgical finesse
nasty stuff I hope
never to see again
Not in the least
did I mind her gift
for gab she kept me
in such stitches
Banter of Botox, bad tattoos,
unwanted hair, toy stores in Queens,
Lexus cars and a kid
till-tapping for shiny dimes
and silver dollars
while I barely aware
feeling like I’m playing Woody
in a new Woody Allen movie
Hand-sewn artistry
sealed the chest wound
Is that a piano keyboard
or a military ribbon?
Thank you, Doctor Levine!