Richard Fox /CANCER SUCKS! (yeah—I know that’s “trite, overused”. Bite me.)/

CANCER SUCKS! (yeah—I know that’s “trite, overused”. Bite me.)

Cancer: To you,
………..miracle debunks statistical improbability.

Cancer: You kill me, you kill you.
………..Dude, are you suicidal?
………..A microcellular terrorist?

Cancer: You stamped an expiration date on my ass.
………..Why can’t I read it in the mirror?

Cancer: You turn me into a chatty-Cathy
………..when I have blood drawn or an EKG or a growth lanced.
Clinicians have long days with doomed patients.
………..I figure it’s my job to provide laughter,
pain not the priority rather the punch line.
………..I want the applause of razors rending my skin.

Cancer: I shuffle in place, drool, adjust a face mask,
………..rip off a dried bandage,
………..fail to ace a flip to the corner trash can.

Cancer: I honor my  quest.

Cancer: If I know I’m dying in days,
………..should I order that cane from Amazon?
Cancer: You flapping freeloader,
………..will you slay me from throat, lung, brain, or
………..a random organ to be named later?

Cancer: Thanks for getting me cute lil’ square steroids.
………..Green is my favorite color.
………..Three sleepless nights can be a drag but
………..three manic runs of infomercials is a hoot.

Cancer: That expiration date?
…………………….I appreciate knowing,
………..being able to say what I want to say to the people I love,
………..hear their words for me.
………..Dying without warning would be crude, an
…………………….untold
…………………….undone
…………………….mess splattered onto survivors.

Cancer: We live together—
…………………….as beloveds? besiegers?
………..You take food without asking,
…………………….never clean up after your parties,
…………………….leave diarrhea on the toilet seat.
………..I had a flatmate like you in college.
…………………….Him I got rid of with a month’s rent check.

Cancer: I mean…
………..what the fuck?

Cancer: Are we traveling together?
………..Is dying younger an early admission?
…………………….A kinder world,
……………………………….family,
……………………………….friends,
………………………………………….my dogs?

Cancer: Are you an angel in disguise?
………..Shredded nylon wings,
………..makeup caked—stray
…………………….vomit-piss-blood-shit?

Cancer: A topaz blade sparkles
…………………….between azure teeth.
You balance a blinding beam in one hand,
…………………….gesture with the other.


Richard H. Fox was born and bred in Worcester MA. He is the author of two poetry collections: Time Bomb (2013) and wandering in puzzle boxes (2015). When not writing about rock ’n roll or youthful transgressions, Richard’s poems focus on cancer from the patient’s point of view drawing on hope, humor, and unforeseen gifts. He seconds Stanley Kunitz’ motion that people in Worcester are “provoked to poetry.” smallpoetatlarge.com

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