Beauty

I saw an old man

lift a soda pop to his

lips.

Cold condensation trickled

                                                d

                                                   o

                                                     w

                                                         n

                                                                  in a fast-food restaurant,

during the rain on a day that didn’t matter.

His esophagus jiggled perfectly as the liquid

flowed.

Then a woman with BIG HAIR, Golden shoes and glASSes went by

to the bathroom.

Her fat calf-muscles flexed in the same manner

as a glorious Olympic sprinter.

Surrounded by physiologic complexity between bites of a roast beef sandwich.

E n grossed in this sea of miracles,

                        I did not care.

            And neither did anyone else.

                              Here is a man . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

                                       The perfect machine that no one appreciates.

                                       ADONIS in a world that is blind.

John Grace, M.D.

Class of 2000