The Waiting Room

And now, The Waiting Room with Old Dr. Magee and Nurse Betty, with a whole list of characters who come in and out of The Waiting Room.

No. 1

Why you unscrupulous cad,
Have you gone completely mad?
Though I have blonde hair
I'm not that unaware
You're old enough to be my dad


No. 2

Then into the waiting room came the Cleaver Clan
A passel of youngans following the head man
Kids: Underachiever, Makebeliever and Naiver Cleaver
Along with their dysfunctional dog, Golden NunRetriever

Mama Conceiver Cleaver is due at most any time
And Leaver Cleaver the dad is silent as a dead mime
Watching the clan is their Aunt Scarlet Fever Cleaver
While her husband lives up to his name, Uncle Upheaver


No. 3

Then there was a rapping, slightly more than tapping,
Rapping on my chamber door,
And in flew a bird, who said not a word,
And grunted a deposit upon my floor!
Why you dirty bird, has it ever occurred
I shouted at the form upon my wall,
I just don't understand, or how you can
Perch there with so much gall.

And then there came slouching, one who was slightly crouching,
In through my chamber's open port
He was briskly scratching, and I ask is it catching?
He said, I won't know till I get the report.

So I hosed him with calamine, polished him to a shine
And donned my rubber gloves and suit
And as I turned him over, His body covered with clover,
And he died from an ingrown clover root.


No. 4

And he looked down with a sad lament
Knowing with the surgeon's blade
His virile manhood had been spent
And quickly his life began to fade.

Dr. Magee, a dishonest scurrilous cad
His M.D. secured from a Diploma Mill
Where he was first among the grads
Majoring in "Selling the Placebo Pill."

Now Goldberg was golden no more
Reduced to an it by the good Doc
Only a shadow of what he was before
He didn't need it, so he sold his jock.

He bought a harmonica, guitar and drum
Headed to Memphis to sing the blues
On Beale St. he'd blow, beat and strum
And sing about how he'd been abused.

And one day who should come into view
Charlotte the harlot the cowpunchers' whore
Riding a horse and leading a kangaroo
And she was mighty hard to ignore.

She invited him off to her room that night
'Cause she was interested in medical things
And assured him everything would be all right
She had something she'd gotten from Beijing.

A strange powder guaranteed to do the trick
When mixed with Wild Turkey and Turpentine
Poured in a cup, stirred with a stick
And chased it with a bottle of Muscadine Wine.

It's a wonder drug, Goldberg began to shout
The passion is returning, I'm strong as an ox
But before he finished his lights went out
And they buried him in an old pine box.


No. 5

And as the applause died down she walked into our midst,
One known as Luscious Lou with a definite feminine twist.

And as she stepped into the room she went right to work
And said very loudly as she pointed at the jerk
Why you pompous old windbag, you icon of hoity-toity
Dressed up in all your finery with diamonds so gaudy
Do you think your gibbering will make us trust in you
Peddling your slimy snake oil and weakened cures for flu
We’re going to give you a treatment, my good Dr. Magee
A turpentine colonic we call it potpourri.

And so they tied him up, trussed up like a fattening hog
Strapped down on a table just like an old brown log
Stripped of all his dignity for all the world to see
He let out a curdling cry that sounded like a banshee

You really must release me, they say what’s past is past
Don’t do anything that’s criminal or you might be gassed
Think about my contributions throughout my medical days
Including all the insurance that I’ve had to pay
I’ve not done anything wrong, a medical man of letters
I’ve only tried to help my patients so they would all be better
The medicine I’ve prescribed has always been quite pure
And sometimes it even surprised me when it gave a cure.

But Old Dr. Magee had finally run out of soap
Along with his time and the great measure of hope
So Lou plugged in the machine and turned up the dial
And as the pressure grew Old Doc began to smile

And somewhere there is peace and little children sing
But Old Dr. Magee doesn’t remember a thing


No. 6

Here’s medical advice from the Doc
Get yourself a large crockpot
Fill it with beans and one big rock
When the rock is tender open the pot

Beans, beans t’is a musical fruit
Good for every man or brute
T’will keep you on a healthy pursuit
And welcome all with a gaseous salute

Here’s medical advice that’s apropos
Before eating beans take a regular dose
Of several pills from a bottle of Beano
To lessen the wind down below

Doc always said beans were good
Though they are often misunderstood
Though not flashy like Hollywood
They’re just finger-licking good

So cook up a pot of good old beans
Then you won’t have to take vaccines
The good Doc will put you on a routine
Of turnip greens, beans and sardines


No. 7

Entering the waiting room a bit of emerald green,
T’was ole deemac that wild Irish lad,
Decked out in a strange fashion dress
With a floppy green had and a skirt of Scottish Plaid?

Nurse Betty said, My you do look strange
Why aren’t you wearing more of the green?
Is it because you like this wild Scottish Plaid?
Or because you just want to make the scene?

So he hiked his skirt and sitting down said,
Ah, t'is a strange sort of story I'll tell,
For I was on the road to Londontown
And, me lads, I thought it the road to hell

I had just gone past my house that day,
Maybe a kilometer or three or maybe four
When I was passing a little shack
And the Queen came out the door

Hey, deemac, she shouted as I passed on by
Have you time to stop for a wee bit of fun?
And I said to me self, t’is the Queen it is
T'would be ill mannered if I turned and run

So I joined her for a spot of Earl Grey tea
As she laid before me a plan for the day
And I knew in a moment she was quite mad
But, that’s great! I heard myself say

So she roll the dice and got a yathze
Then dealt out the cards one by one
And placed her bets upon the table
Then put a shine upon her buns

So I played her game as well as I could
Even dealing the cards with my toes
But try as I might I could not win
So for a week I have to wear her clothes

So is the psychiatrist in the clinic today
I'd really like to hear what he has to say


No. 8

Suddenly into the waiting room
Came a lady having a conniption fit
And tagging along in her wake
She dragged a skinny little twit

She ordered him around, with a glare
He’s irregular she said as a fact
He’ll need a strong cathartic
If it don’t work, we may need a jack

I’ve prodded and poked without success
He’s slow as molasses on a cold day
And I’ve tried a week to get him to go
Last night I fed him curds and whey

Where’s the doctor we saw the last time
It was in the ER that Saturday night
He had the right treatment for Harold that day
A stick of dynamite and a match to light

A little severe, the fuse was quite short
One each morning and at night once again
We stopped for it was such a task
Cause when we used it, it blew out his Depends.


No. 9

Careful how you handle that hawg-leg
Them bullets might hit your pea-brain egg
How would you get around on a footless peg
Why, you’d have to go on the street and beg

Speaking of eggs, yours has a minute more
When the coroner will carry you out the door
You’ll only be part of the Waiting Room lore
After they’ve dropped you in the earth’s core

The good part, though you’ve always been lazy
You’ll have work to do pushing up daisies
But carry your specks so you can see thru the haze
Caused I hear your new place has a great big blaze

Now we’ve done everything to fight your ills
It’s too bad you were too far over the hill
Here’s another prescription for a miracle pill
But when you’re gone, where do we send the bill?


No. 10

Amazing Grace! You gotta be kidding, Ace!
You been womanizing ‘round here a hundred years
That’s why they call this hallway the trail of tears
You didn’t break hearts so forget your pride
But it’s that we laughed so hard that we cried
And if you think any of the nurses like you
I’m here to tell you that you don’t have a clue

So Dr. M, for you we’ve written no song
Cause the words we’d use would be too strong
Like pea-brained, pot-head and dirty old man
And so all the nurses for you have a plan
It involves a rubber suit and water that drips
So if you want to avoid it, better stay zipped


No. 11

Time flies so you say
Said Doc, but do you see
How much you weigh
You have rounded edges
You’re a little fat
Yes, it’s obvious to all
Except that
Your hair quite thin
You need a big hat
Which should do nicely
Except that
You’re really quite homely
You have a face like a rat
A face lift would do
Except that
You have no shape
Your chest is quite flat
Padding might help
Except that
You’re politically incorrect
You’re a registered democrat
You could resign
Except that
You’re mean and rude
An inconsiderate brat
Because you were spoiled
And that’s a fact

So I am a flat, fat brat democrat
Listen, you little medical gnat

Why do you act so coarse
Show a little remorse
You sound a little hoarse
Consider what is the source
For you have no force
But of course
You’re the other end of the horse


No. 12

How dare you rant about my granny, Mrs. Starr,
So what, if she wears tinny shoes and smokes cigars
She’s a kind and gentle creature with one distinct feature
She can flat beat out a mean tune on her Dobro guitar

One time in her life she had a lot of fun
In a juke joint down off old U.S. 61
Called The Hungry Toad ‘bout a mile off the main road
Where she shot the eyes out of that son-of-a-gun

Now Granny is old and her life has started to fade
Her eyesight is poor and she wears a hearing aid
Dr. Magee gives her pills, a cathartic, and regular bills
To clean her house now she has to have a maid

So lighten up on my good old granny
Search every nook and cranny
And write about nice things, like her gossamer angelic wings
Or me, and all my cousins, will have to kick your fanny

I guess this poem has been enough
Telling all the secrets and that kind of stuff
But it’s kinda bizarre, when I think about Granny Starr
She acts tough, but she’s really just a lot of fluff


No. 13

Help! Help! Dr. Magee
I’m having trouble with my pee
It don’t flow like it use to
Sometimes it’s a different hue
I went down to the picture show
In the restroom it just wouldn’t go
When it did and I was through
I look down and it was blue

My son, a lad of nine
Really had to go one time
To the restroom he went in
Where there were two old men
He thought he would pop
One couldn’t start, one couldn’t stop
And for him it was too late
Cause he simply couldn’t wait

It seems to run in the family
Dealing with all this pee
So do you have a wonder drug
This fount you could plug


No. 14

Good Dr. Magee is getting ready to retire
His medical license is about to expire
We've planned a gala celebration
Complete with an AMA delegation
The invitations are prepared and sent
To this mega lollapalooza event
And when the celebration is done
We'll learn just why it all was begun
He thought a lawyer was taking him to the cleaners
When he had only committed a misdemeanor
So cancel the party and deflate the balloons
His office is reopened the first of June


No. 15

And then the man, who was known as Dangerous Dan,
Was playing a ragtime tune
Patting to the beat, with his oversized feet
Thinking it was the Klondike Saloon
The times were quite heady and he looked at nurse Betty
And thought she was a barfly name Gail
And with a flip of his wrist, he sought to insist
She do the dance of seven veils
And in came McGrew, who was looking kinda blue
As he stepped into this surreal scene
And Dangerous Dan, included him in the plan
And Gail became the Sweet Potato Queen
She danced the mashed potato, Two-step and Percolator
And was swinging to the ragtime beat
Then into the room, came the queen wearing only a plume,
And waved it to the crowd
With the president and his men, Martha Steward and her kin
And the few, the brave and the proud
So with Dangerous Dan playing, the potato queen swaying
Doc McGrew has lost control of his room
So he lay down on a bed, t'ween his knees tucked his head
And assumed the fetal position in the womb


No. 16

And this questionable prescription pad
That in Ole Doc’s hand was clad
He had gotten it free
From a box of potpourri
And now he was quite mad

But what of this bra that was plaid
Is Ole Doc trying to start a fad
Surely not with me
No matter if it’s free
I’m not nor will I ever be that rad

With a bra he’d be scantily clad
Requiring many a prescription pad
To cover his abundant glee
Not to mention his potpourri
I’m afraid the result would be sad

This man is a medekal skool grad
He’s not some deadbeat dad
He’s Ole Doc Magee
Dressed up like Madam Curie
I’d rather see him in plaid

So it’s time to end this Ad
We’ve made him up like Vlad
So we’ll end this spree
With a lifetime guarantee
Never again to be this bad.



No. 17

Old Zeke’s wife said with a tear in her eye,
You’ve got to stop this bleeping guy
It’s ruined my rest
And gave me a test
So if it does not stop, for me it’s good-bye.

So Doc went into his little black bag
And took from within a medicated rag
Just insert between his lips
Before his language slips
And sleep with ease because of the gag

So she took old Doc’s sage advice
Intending to put his bleeping on ice
But as his speech did start
He released a giant fart
That blew off their bedcovers twice

This gag you gave didn’t work too well
For now I contend with the bleeping smell
And your bleeping advice
Did not suffice
So what do I to do with a methane gale


No. 18

Doc, I came home the other day
Found my wife just crying away
Why are you crying, what’s wrong?
Why are you singing this sad song?
Well she quieted down, blew her nose
Gathered herself and got composed
Said, it’s this body, it’s falling apart
The sad result of Mother Nature’s art
Gravity has ruined this frame of mine
It sags and drags with passing time
This rose tattoo upon my breast
Is now long-stemmed inside my vest
Besides that my skin is sagging
And instead of wagging, my rear is dragging
My hair is gray, frizzed and thinning
My face is wrinkled from too much grinning

So Doc my wife needs some wonder pills
To cure all these time induced ills
I’ve talked till I’m blue in the face
Cussed and cajoled all over the place
But I can’t convince this woman of mine
That she like a bottle fine aged wine
Getting better with each passing day
Cause she baths in Oil of Olay
So I’m gonna buy her a Steel Buns machines
Then she can wear her tight fitting jeans.

© Copyright 2004 Writer of the Winds (UN: caracas at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writer of the Winds has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.