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.
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