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