Entry - MAG Poetry Prize 2010

The Sample

by Linda Smith

I called to see my Doctor, an appointment I had made
  when visiting the toilet, pain was sharp, like a razor blade
After I’d flushed and washed my hands, when ablutions were complete
  no sooner had I dried them, then I was back on the toilet seat
I fidgeted in his chair as I explained the situation
  the Doctor looked enlightened as I completed my recitation
He smiled and asked for a sample, as he handed me a pot
  it looked a little small for me to fill in just one shot!
I said that I would try but the pot was tiny so I might fail
  he grinned and said if I missed, he would supply me with a pail
Blushing madly I walked out of his office in search of the loo
  which happened to be in the waiting area, so everybody knew …
what he’d sent me out for, the pot in my hand was on display
  I never thought to hide it, I should have tucked it right away
I sat upon the seat and put in place the little pot
  The indignity I suffered, I would have much preferred to, not
I strained to deliver a tinkle for the Doctor’s satisfaction
  but more went over my hand than in the pot, due to distraction
I managed half an inch or so, for him to do his bit
  and after scrubbing up I returned it, for him to use his kit
He placed a piece of card into the pot for a little while
  and when he took it out he turned to me and said with a smile
“You have a mild infection which, not treated could be chaotic,
  I’ll have to write a prescription for a course of antibiotic”
It appears the problem I had can be quite common for a girl
  but if it is not treated you can end up faint, head in a whirl
I don’t know which end’s worse as I oft had tonsillitis
  but this infection seemed as bad, something that’s called cystitis
It’s thought to be prevented by regular drinks of the fruit, cranberry
  the berries of which have healing powers said to be extraordinary
Apparently, this infection could at any time, itself, repeat
  so I’m taking steps to prevent it after reading a symptom sheet
However, though I might do much so it doesn’t come back, I can’t see …
  I’ll ever give up the primary cause, cuddling up to my man, making whoopee

Added: 30.04.2010

Judges' comments on this poem


loved this poem, it was as fun to read as i expect it was to write. Rhymes as well, always a bonus i think


Made me laugh then grimace in sympathy. Loved the rhyming of 'chaotic' and 'antibiotic'