oncology

Where did the end find you?

Were you outside by the dumpster 

on a cigarette break,

relaxing between the arms of your sofa

and sips of white zinfandel?

No, that is not where you were.

Your tumors had grown over the years

like storm clouds gathering together on the horizon.

While the sky darkened you mistook the thunderheads

for arthritis in your flat feet.

Maybe it was the orthotics that needed adjusting,

maybe that was what caused 

the lightning strikes  in your side.

You thought it over between commercials 

during the evening news.

Your horses ran laps in the mornings

and ate carrots out of the hands of my daughters

who were too young to notice the signs...

how the wind was picking up,

the leaves turning upside down,

the horses peculiarly nervous.

They asked you innocently enough,

"How are you uncle Vince?"

And neither of you were any wiser.

They didn't know to check the almanac.

The doctors had read it like an insurance policy,

mulled it over while making their decisions.

They had seen the signs before;

they knew the season was nigh.

By the time the rains started

it was too late for hospice;

the end had found you clenching,

robbed of your integrity,

the tumors raping you.

Author's Note

My good friend of many years Vince Vindetti died this evening of cancer. He had never been to a doctor. He didn't find out until it as too late. He was 73.

Reviews

[Beccy]

Powerful and very poignant poem and the close friendship shines like a beacon in every line.
From the sidelines, three score year and ten plus three, seems like a fair shake, but it never comes easy when it's up close and personal.

The subject is of course heart wrenching, but your use of language is outstanding.

Beccy.

[Alfred Kukitz]

I can see your caring for this man; I can see your love for this man between each word, between each line. I find loving a man as one of the beauties of life. The loss, of course, like pain driving you across the country.

[LadyAnn68]

How very disillusioning...once you know you could have tried to do something.... i feel your loss and give condolences for you. Light a candle..it always helps.

[Claire in VA]

First, I am sorry for your loss. This depicts exactly what cancer does.
Not caring, it robs us.
Very moving write.

[Ghost of Jupiter]

Deep and heartfelt poem and I am so sorry to hear of your loss. The title of this poem really grabbed me for I seem to be spending a lot of time in that department of the hospital of late, and see all the weary bodies of the strong souls that frequent it. This being a close subject the lovely words... spoke volumes...wonderful write...

[Mia Sparrow]

cancer is an insidious disease that inevitably snatches the ones we love abruptly out of our lives. finding out when it is too late doesn't give them time for an instance of acceptance perhaps causing one to approach death in terror rather than peace. and the helplessness we feel for not not being able to do anything is distressing and traumatic. i'm sorry for you loss, darling.

[Rita L. Sev]

Damn, Xavier. I am so sorry for your loss. Your wrenching and all too real poem takes me back to a family friend who died similarly, avoiding doctors, preferring the state of knowing-not knowing... Your buddy clearly left a legacy of friendship.

[Ruth]

I am so sorry for your loss love, really am. I know a lot of people who don't go to the doctors...worries me, even though healthcare is not reliable, its all we have I guess...wrenching piece and thoughts to you x

[Sheila Kline]

Cancer may rip the life out of us before we know it, or perhaps I should better say before we at times want to accept it is with us.
I am sorry for the loss of your friend! Your write is gripping and certainly makes quite an impression on this writer. I question if he would have treated it if he had known it was with him. Maybe this is the best way to go when ravaged, and as you say, raped by it.

[Vidya Bacchus]

I ay sorry about your friend X.People tend to hate doctors and don't go until it is too late.You wrote a very heartfelt poem my friend.