life with cancer, Poetry

Schrödinger’s Restaurant

I’m spinning plates at
Schrödinger’s Restaurant
Where food arrives and then doesn’t.
Cats black run out the front gate
Arriving white at the back door.

Finish eating peacefully, with love your wife and not wife.
Her note scratched on the back of a non payable check:
Make sure to do the mopping up of everything on your plate,
With white toast, or with nothing but your tongue.
No ones looking at you anymore
Anachronisms come built with a kill switch.
Schrödinger typed the menu in mimeograph blue
And we lift our morning quiz up to light our eyes
With the power of copies, copies, copies,

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Depression

It’s Complicated

Leave me alone, please and stop annoying me. Of course I love you. I don’t blame you for everything. You are pissing me off now. Do not make me say something I will regret. Of course I want to go to your oncology appointment. You never told me what time we had to go. You […]

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Friendship and Cancer

Op-Ed: Regarding Cancer and Making Personal Connections

I’ve received so many amazing letters from people who read my blog or found me through another online channel like my Etsy shop, YeuxDeux Vintage, or on Instagram or Twitter or Facebook. They read about my diagnosis and my current life and find common ground, and I’m honored to communicate with people who were touched enough by my life to personally reach out. I appreciate their candor and I am especially humbled by the emotional outpourings of some of the communications I receive. Unnecessarily, their email begins with an apology for a “stranger” so openly sharing their experiences with me. But are we really strangers?

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life with cancer

Canferatu: The Prequel

In which our heroine finds herself clutched in the monster’s filthy, razor sharp claws, afraid for her life. Introduction: The scripting process begins and ends This narrative slowly opens and possibly took several years for the writer to realize the finished script. Editing the story of a life continues beyond publication, past the timeline of […]

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Depression

One Fresh Hell, Hold the Tomatoes

Yearning for my partner’s support and the kind of tender and caring love many of which many metastatic sisters write and blog about, I now look over at him, home in bed, and find one whose dark, inky emotions remain locked away inside his heart, like the stars behind clouds in a dark night sky. He lays there disengaged, thinking to himself about things that cause long bouts of sighing, and the simmering anger of so many men who find themselves bitten by such disorders.

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Oncology and me

Sloop John B. aka Let Me Go Home

So hoist up the John B’s sail See how the main sail sets Call for the Captain ashore Let me go home, let me go home I want to go home Well I feel so broke up I want to go home Hoist up the John-b sail. See how the main sail sets, I groan […]

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