SUFFERING

THE BODY IN UNISON

Cancer, you are not creative and beatiful; you take away all that is beautiful and creative, making the body an ugly cesspool of despair and degeneration. There was no room for your wild growth so we had to set a fire, (IMG SRC="fire.jpeg">and now we are nauseous, weak and depressed. There's nothing funny or witty or entertaining about your energy: look what a scorched forest you have created. We would rather watch the world explode from a nuclear bomb than feel your explosion imploding our being.

Maxine Factor writes ROSES ARE RED

i live on the thorns
of your red
cradled in petals
artificial
colored by scent
false
of sensual pleasure...
only momentary

your bouquet
is beautifully packaged
Damaged

i enter each petal
with the curiosity
of a child
naive
until the prickling
cuts too deep.

Victoria Carr writes about "Laura and Her Bald Head":

Yesterday on the train
I tried to read her eyes
the girl with the scarf
and the pale wrinkled smile
maybe she's just cold
and not soon to die

Anyway, our eyes met
I thought she'd be predictable
you know glancing away
or down at her hands
fidgeting nervously

But she kind of looked at me
with squinty eyes
"What the FUCK!!!"
Well, those words weren't actually spoken
but the flaring nostrils
the agitated eyebrows
taught neck and jaw
left hand palm up
that's what they said.

I suppose I was wrong
the girl was not disease infested
with the C-----word
that kills

You see ever since I decided to make it my focus for the semester
everybody has cancer
young people with thin wispy hair
frail hands and arms
deep sunken eyes
or maybe bloated thighs
those who walk slowly with
that look in their eyes

Laura, Laura was a thin girl before
and after the cancer
she had long, thick tresses
reddish, blonde
was a pretty "regular, average girl"
jeans and T-shirts
movies and the mall

But after the cancer
when the hair came out
and only thin wispy patches of hair were left
she covered it up with du-rags
and found herself crying every night
most of her friends couldn't deal
ironic huh they didn't have hours of
endless treatments
chemotherapy and radiation
vomiting diarrhea nausea
"it's time to take your blood" was a familiar phrase

then one day
she stopped crying
"I won't let the cancer become me" she said
so she shaved her head
smooth, shiny and silky
and found herself attending
all the latest punk rock clubs
DM, The Cure
CBs, black lips and eyes
pale foundation and more piercings
black clothes every day

Those who already knew her
were aware of the cancer
but those she just met
didn't have a clue
"Appearances can be deceiving," she said.
"Can't they?"

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