poetryrepairs #222 16.03:036

LYN LIFSHIN : The Cardiologist Has Left His Wife to Tango
LYN LIFSHIN : The Cardiologist

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The Cardiologist Has Left His Wife to Tango

with a woman younger than his daughter’s age. Did he wake up, tired of valves and arteries, of his wife, her wrinkled fingers? Did he want out from charts and tests? Maybe he thought of his wife’s papery skin, of how few years there could be to dance? Did he think a young dancer’s skin would be more exciting than anything he could do with sick hearts? I think of the thrown away wife, alone on a couch, abandoned as he books tango tours to Argentina, Buenos Aires and Spain, the dance dance of love and hate, his soul Viagra

poetryrepairs #222 16.03:036

The Cardiologist

is retiring from his practice, his wife. It’s no longer enough to massage hearts back to life. His children are gone. He is starved for the staccato, not heart beats, irregular is ok but a tango beat he can whip himself into passion with, a woman with ink hair and eyes to shake the November days out of him. He wants the glow of Argentine tango, the feeling of hips and breasts merging with his body. His old wife is old. He wants to go out in the flame and fire of a young Spanish beauty, terrified not to still be the charmer he was sure he was

poetryrepairs #222 16.03:036

The Cardiologist Dumps His Wife to Run Off to Tango

maybe it was a nurse from Bolivia, skirt slashed, her legs knives behind her eyes as she lured him. Maybe he felt old, wanted to get out of the heart business, maybe he longed for the agony and ecstasy of tango, the intricate steps of the pick pocket on his hips and thighs, glued to hips and thighs of a a much younger lover in Argentina, Brazil. Who needs cardiographs and knives, where in the barrios there is skin on skin, moving thru crowds on the streets, in the little cafes in Buenos Aires, the love /hate tango taking you out of yourself

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