Test Results, Positive | to pdf >>
By J. Trig Brown, MD

There is no magic in my bag
No aces up these white coat sleeves
No healing spells, no tricks to please
No Merlin's song to save the day.

To comfort you should be my trick
Should be our goal, our common boast.
To do no harm, my solemn oath
Is jeopardized by what I know.

The words I chant will shake your soul
Will bubble forth to change your life
Like sorcerers with beards of white
Will make you yearn for days gone by.

The news I bring is from the void.
It summons grief, directs the storms.
A crimson cape of life's dreams torn
This wizard waves before your eyes.

I mix my brew, you toss it down.
The genie's out, the truth is loose,
Your perfect health: a painful ruse.
No magic words will save you now.