Poem: Thank you, Dr. Larkin

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Thank you, Dr. Larkin

Dr. Larkin
Dr. Larkin
Thank you, Dr. Larkin.

I sing your high praise
from Hoboken
to Interlochen.

O Coshochton, OH,
Have you heard of
Dr. Larkin?

He rescued my boy
who was bruised,
bumped and broken,
stitched him up fine
like a mama I reckon,

straightened the jaw,
set his teeth back to sparklin’,
called a friend, paid the bill
that was big enough to park in.

Hearken, hearken
all ye for Dr. Larkin,
a mender who’s there
but unknown and unspoken.

Is that your brother
building cars in Detroit, all stark in
the litter blowing back on itself, over
drunk homeless men, alive but unwoken?

You are me, Dr. Larkin,
mama, builder and poet,
you attend to our boys
from Hamtramck to Khanaqin.

Thank you, thank you,
thank you,
Dr. Larkin.

Notes: The doctor who helped our son last week was named Dr. Larkin. MediCal picked up the entire bill, including followup visits and coverage of the year ahead. Hoboken is an island city in the Hudson River in New Jersey, Interlochen is a Michigan town with a music camp, and Coshocton is a canal town in Ohio. Hamtramck (pronounced Ham-tram-ick) is a Polish town that sits in the middle of Detroit and has a General Motors auto plant where they make the new electric Volt. Khanaqin is a river city in Iraq, considered the symbolic center of Kurdish identity.


Painting: Jean-Francois Millet's “The Good Samaritan”

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