I have always been partial to the Ninth Doctor, even though he only lasted one season, wasn’t very good looking, and had a terrible choice of assistant. The thing I liked about him was that he was always so cheerful and easily distracted, but he had this undercurrent of deep, unfathomable darkness. Also, he was ugly is the most charming sort of way. And he likes to hold hands with people.

            For those of you who don’t know, I am referring to the title character from the BBC series Dr. Who. Said unnamed Doctor travels through time and space in a police telephone-box, accompanied by a female assistant. He re-incarnates and is played by a series of actors. (The Ninth Doctor by Christopher Eccleston, the Tenth by David Tennant and his glasses and hair, the Eleventh by Matt Smith.) It’s all a bit involved and a bit boring, but you get the idea. What’s important to know is, he’s a one-of-a-kind humanoid superstar.  He sweeps in, saves the day by defeating monsters, and leaves in a flourish. Meanwhile, whatever civilization he’s rescued has to deal with the tougher questions, such as How do we bury our dead? and What does it mean for us that other, more intelligent life-forms are out there? How do we define ourselves as a species? and What now?

            I think Dr. Who is kind of a fucked-up dude.

            But the Ninth Doctor. I’d run away with him in a heartbeat. Or two.







From harsh lighting and overstuffed chairs,

we await the doctor’s prognosis

and his prescription for cowardice.


Invaders that creep

and invaders that zap

are never the problem—

that’s what lasers and thinking are for.

And running to computers

and running to wires, to easy solutions

in less than hour or two

(which can always be rewound and reworked anyways).


The leaving too is easy

with a flourish and fanfare coattails flying,

leaving with an unmistakable hum

as civilization works itself out.


He writes us a prescription for cowards—

it takes less than an hour or two.

He shows his ship at the credits,

safe, no crawlies, no extra eyes.

Just the doctor and his lovely assistant

lauded as heroes, part of the books.

But we know somehow the emptiness

is always bigger on the inside.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s