A three-part, unmetered poem on being a doctor in the Philippines. Part 2 – Dolor I am a Physician, An empty husk. A hollowed-out stone. The river benefitted by many but mine. The hand that reaches out whole to be severed fine. There is a tragedy brewing here— Seventeen thousand labours with none towards deliverance.…

A three-part, unmetered poem on being a doctor in the Philippines. Part 1 ⁠– Candor I am a Physician, A child of Prometheus and his kindred flame. The hand that reaches down from heaven— To till the loam that longs for arid winds. I am a steward, an instrument, their paragon. I am what they…