Lung Cancer

I prophesy an x-ray
brittle from time
held in frail elderly hands
lungs like an inverted broken heart
a dark spot visible only if you know
where to look
half a century old
from a time when that black blemish,
caught like a gnat in an old widow’s
dust-laced home,
was terror, uncertainty and loss
reopened wounds, agasp
breathless and
I predict no grave
no partner at my side
only the scientific dissection
of another wholly typical subject
and a sad human female
mammal – alone – primate – tears
opposable thumbs stroking
the photographic organs of a fleshless ghost
remembering
the last Winston in the pack
upon the shrine – she smokes it for me
2060
it has been too long
I am, at last, extinguished

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