Will I bulge,
like the snake that swallowed
an elephant -
arm - a barrage balloon,
an ostrich egg pulsing aside my neck?
The price of life - prize - Survival.
Sometimes, might be
better to expire,
but dying isn't for sometimes,
it's so often final.
No one asks -
they just assume
And that is why I'm getting fried;
lymph nodes radio-activated to destruction.
Consent form signed -
not that I decided;
It was everybody else
insisted I should take the cure.
I am afraid
of what might be suggested next,
yet they don't suggest, they tell you
what your getting. Better? And I'm ungrateful
not to want it, but then,
I never asked for any of this.
No one does. They only hope to live
without irreparable damage.
I'm not even hoping
for that any more,
I just want to manage the cure.