When asked, I used to say,
“I want to be a doctor,”
Which is the same thing
As a child saying,
“I want to be a priest,”
Or
“I want to be a magician,”
Which is the laying on
Of hands, the vibrations,
The rabbit in the hat
Or the body in the cup,
The curing of the sick
And the raising of the dead.

“Fix and fix, you’re all better,”
I would say
To the neighborhood wounded
As we fought the world war
Through the vacant lots of Ohio.
“Fix and fix, you’re all better,”
And they would rise
To fight again.
But then
I saw my aunt die slowly of cancer
And a man struck down by a car.

All along I had really
Wanted to be a poet,
Which is, you see, almost the same thing as saying,
“I want to be a doctor,”
“I want to be a priest,”
Or
“I want to be a magician.”
All along, without realizing it,
I had wanted to be a poet.

Fix and fix, you’re all better.

- Paul Zimmer