The Surgeon At 2 A.m. Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABCDCEEFE GHIJJKLMNO APQPRDNSPS TAUVWJXYZY EA2B2FPC2D2QE2F2| crobes cannot survive it | A |
| They are departing in their transparent garments turned aside | B |
| From the scalpels and the rubber hands | C |
| The scalded sheet is a snowfield frozen and peaceful | D |
| The body under it is in my hands | C |
| As usual there is no face A lump of Chinese white | E |
| With seven holes thumbed in The soul is another light | E |
| I have not seen it it does not fly up | F |
| Tonight it has receded like a ship's light | E |
| - | |
| It is a garden I have to do with tubers and fruit | G |
| Oozing their jammy substances | H |
| A mat of roots My assistants hook them back | I |
| Stenches and colors assail me | J |
| This is the lung tree | J |
| These orchids are splendid They spot and coil like snakes | K |
| The heart is a red bell bloom in distress | L |
| I am so small | M |
| In comparison to these organs | N |
| I worm and hack in a purple wilderness | O |
| - | |
| The blood is a sunset I admire it | A |
| I am up to my elbows in it red and squeaking | P |
| Still is seeps me up it is not exhausted | Q |
| So magical A hot spring | P |
| I must seal off and let fill | R |
| The intricate blue piping under this pale marble | D |
| How I admire the Romans | N |
| Aqeducts the Baths of Caracella the eagle nose | S |
| The body is a Roman thing | P |
| It has shut its mouth on the stone pill of repose | S |
| - | |
| It is a statue the orderlies are wheeling off | T |
| I have perfected it | A |
| I am left with and arm or a leg | U |
| A set of teeth or stones | V |
| To rattle in a bottle and take home | W |
| And tissues in slices a pathological salami | J |
| Tonight the parts are entombed in an icebox | X |
| Tomorrow they will swim | Y |
| In vinegar like saints' relics | Z |
| Tomorrow the patient will have a clean pink plastic limb | Y |
| - | |
| Over one bed in the ward a small blue light | E |
| Announces a new soul The bed is blue | A2 |
| Tonight for this person blue is a beautiful color | B2 |
| The angels of morphia have borne him up | F |
| He floats an inch from the ceiling | P |
| Smelling the dawn drafts | C2 |
| I walk among sleepers in gauze sarcophagi | D2 |
| The red night lights are flat moons They are dull with blood | Q |
| I am the sun in my white coat | E2 |
| Grey faces shuttered by drugs follow me like flowers | F2 |
Sylvia Plath
(1)
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About The Surgeon At 2 A.m.
The Surgeon At 2 A.m. is a poem by Sylvia Plath. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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