Macgyver Testo

so i threw on my coat an ran out the door,
sped through the night to the old hospital,
where the doctors said to wait, so i camped in the ward,
watching the clock as it haemorrhages time so slow.
and i❝ve lingered here so long.
the air in here so cold.
the shallow breath so quiet.
the shibboleth of MacGuiver laid bare,
flat on a table, blackened by bruises he couldn❝t explain.
and there was nothing he could build
to save himself out of biros and blue-tack.
they opened up his cavities in the operating theatre,
but the doctors couldn❝t find a heart,
his lymph glands running motor oil.
his calloused fingers lie inert,
their intricate ability punctured by
the god-shaped hole in adolescent consciousness.
he couldn❝t build a bomb to mend the splinters of his broken heart.
his home-made radar couldn❝t find a way to make his weapons art.
MacGyver bleeds out all of his rationalism.
isaac newton, your lever is not long enough.
the scottish enlightenment a sinking ship.
so i left the hospital with the bleep of life support machines a memory.