WARNING: This poem is totally gross.
Unfortunately, it was inspired by my own, real-life experience, getting involved in some TID dressing change, on a stage-4, infected decubitus. The only way I could deal with the demolition of "Universal Precautions", was to write about it.


Pseudomonas Stew

When the wound begins to fester
Oozing yellow goo,
When the pungency develops
Into a powerful pee-yoo,
When the macerated tissue
Melts into a slurry,
It's time to plan for dinner
Though there isn't any hurry.

When, necrosing blisters burst
And splatter you with blood,
When the stage-four lumbar crater
Starts leaking thick green crud,
It's time to think of dinner
Invite a friend or two,
The main course is a favorite
That pseudomonas stew.

FIbril_late; 1995