Hooked Up

has new meaning
no new romantic interest
no darting glances
feigned disinterest

instead it is

a soft tapping on the hand
calling the vein to come forth
rise and receive
the drug of death
and life

the cadaverous pole
pendalous with breasts of plastic
prophylactic and poison
they dip and sway
and drip

a stream of unconscious
droplets of mortality
ponderously
yet inexorably
wend their way
through plastic walkways
into a darker terrain
to fight a battle
and win
and lose

Four Weeks

The first week
after chemo three
was long and tired
very very long and
very very tired

it was queasy
and achey
and fuzzy
and fussy
filled with nothing
but sleep without rest
and rest without sleep
tasteless
restless
emptyless
life

the second week
was tired
legs that gave up after
five minutes of action
arms that pulled without lifting
eyes that pled for sleep
without the pill
and irritated over everything
and nothing
the flavor of cardboard
permeates all

the third week
still tired
legs still ached
arms weak
but miracle sleep
arrived
and grape jelly
tastes

then week four
where chemo should have been
wonderful week four
walking the dog
eating salads
sleeping for hours
at night
playing cards and chinese checkers
until
the next one
and it will start all over
again