Following

Following the tumor blooms that muted my throat and gut, I duct taped my mind to the wordless, I put my head down charging at daggers, and thanks to pain bullets and cancer bombs my thoughts are catching a little headwind. I'm looking at a sea otter floating on its back agilely playing with stones, it’s definitely working the crowd. I'm looking at a lion staring into a camera, under its heavy paw a gazelle is also staring into a lens; are they waiting for applause? I'm looking through a shop window at televisions that are revealing all this, plus my gazing reflection. We can all do better, more rehearsals will eventually take our perfect picture, meanwhile it’s important to look good as time stops, then continues to drain away in its usual hazardous way.