For god’s sake
whatever you do
keep your eyes off of her magnificent tits.
Look straight down into the hole
in the table
as she reaches across you
to touch you
to oil you
to reach and tease and push
and pull your skin
making your muscles ache and moan
all in the name of relaxation.

She seduces with minted voice
and soft palms
pushing against your flab.
Stay vigilant.
Stare down
and ignore her siren’s touch.
Control your ragged breath
while she firmly controls
the rest of you.

Think calming thoughts
while she lays atop you,
penduluminous breasts swaying
grazing your back
raising hairs you thought you’d lost
sometime in seventh grade.
Keep your content clean, chum.

Remember:
this is in the name of science.
Remember:
this is in the name of health.
Remember this is in the name of medicine
and good repute
and when she kindly
sweetly asks you to turn over
know that the moment will be awkward
and the place doesn’t take your insurance
and maybe
just maybe
this could be one of those all-service joints?

But no.
Apparently not.
You have failed the test
and you’ll have to find another chiropractor, probably.
Definitely.
Absolutely.