The Central Hospital, Montauban.

My recent experiences
reminded me of lines by world-famous
Seamus Heaney, whose poetry
I have never liked. This mediocre poem,
for example, is ruined
by the jarring, laboured
'eyebeams threaded laser-fast'.

For me, the only good experiences
were the jolly, jolty trundlings 

by ambulance and trolley,
flat on my back as a dozen
cheerless ceilings passed.

The the operation itself, 

during which I was conscious and intrigued,
proceeded with blows and punches
to get the pacemaker in position, flesh-fast...