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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=580672" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Travails of a Lab Attendant</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I view<br>the homing Indian bull-frog<br>with pink thighs, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">lying flat on the dissection table; <br>a flag pinned on it’s webbed hind foot, <br>says “Hoplobatrachus tigerinus”</div><div style="margin:10px 0">the viscera looks <br>everything like the mangled cosmic whore<br>from the ancient gully I co-habited long ago.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I scoop the un-laid cluster of her eggs<br>and carefully mount <br>on the compound microscope </div><div style="margin:10px 0">empowered with condenser lens, <br>the stage is prepared but<br>it takes time to focus a genuine specimen.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">olive of color like a military strategist in uniform, <br>the frog missed her cue last evening<br>and fell into my ravenous net, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">it’s the same frog, the consort’d escaped <br>by shrewdness of the sound of leaves<br>I trampled on; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I don’t study frogs <br>or animals for that matter <br>but animal psychology fascinates, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">if not for the perverts of the curriculum<br>the pair would have had a long desirous night<br>which is what I keep thinking about, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I don’t do dirty things<br>like dissecting a frog <br>or check for the nuptial pads in their legs, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">my occupation is to catch these obese models, <br>feed them for the night<br>and bring them to the lab, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">today the lab is vacant, I capture<br>the mannerisms of the Prof, <br>it makes me feel good because he tips me well, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">after twenty two minutes of screwing <br>the knob and the pipe up and down<br>I pull my eyes off in wetness, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">the images of the eggs <br>stay in my vision<br>and throw up rapid flashes</div><div style="margin:10px 0">of pictures of other female organs<br>hidden from the scrutiny of science<br>throbbing in silence.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Saranyan BV © Aug 2011</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Saranyan+Bee">Saranyan Bee</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=580672" data-title="Travails of a Lab Attendant de Saranyan Bee" data-description="I view
the homing Indian bull-frog
with pink thighs, 

lying flat on the dissection table; 
a flag pinned on it’s webbed hind foot, 
says “Hoplobatrachus tigerinus”

the viscera looks 
everything like the mangled cosmic whore
from the ancien..."></div>
</div>
</div>