Leslie Anne Mcilroy: Call Back
The pink half-gown is tied wrong.
I can’t figure out the strings.
My nipples are hard in the
fluorescent waiting room.
Molly Fisk: She Lived to See
ate only bites but
always well: warm boysenberry pie,
bone broth matzoh ball soup
Adrie Kusserow: A Brief Respite after Chemo
A BRIEF RESPITE FROM THE USUAL PERCEPTUAL DIVIDES: AFTER CHEMO I SKI THROUGH THE VERMONT WOODS IN ANOTHER CLIMATE CHANGE STORM
Carolyn Gregory: Under Wire
Dear little breast, you were badgered and harassed by needles and nuclear medicine, almost ready to fall off in shame when you only carried yourself with dignity in the … Continue reading
Molly Fisk: Cancer, again
this time a slow- growing rarity tracing delicate tendrils through kidney and liver, the lung’s sturdy wall, artery somewhere I can’t remember, though twice I’ve been told. How the mind … Continue reading
Rachel Blum: The Night of her Diagnosis
The night of her diagnosis
I dreamed her white spiral
like a small galaxy
that rose away
John Samuel Tieman: Haibun
he pencils me in the doctor hints of cancer but we’ll talk next week What should I do as the end of summer approaches? Earlier today, when I went to … Continue reading
Vox Populi 