oh you know rum and raisin
the type that chokes you surreptitiously
the type that gnaws slowly
at your organs
until they cease to function
or the mint and choc chip special
with a squirt of sauce
dark
viscous
threatening
and the room hums
like a refrigerator at 4am
trying to keep something cold
that is rotting
the doctor’s mouth moves
but all I hear
is white noise
snow flurries inside my head
each flake
another possibility
I become the inventory
a body reduced to margins
numbers circled manically in red
things to be checked off
everyone says
stay positive
as if tumours fear optimism
my name is still mine
but it sounds borrowed
passed between the medical staff
like a fragile object
wrapped in the silk of professional calm
the diagnosis spoken
like the waiter announces desserts
a zingy coulis
a steamed sponge with cream foam
coffee or cheese
everything will be ok
you have choices
