No one believes
too much, that we
carry wounds
on our bodies
the same as we
carry wounds
in our bodies
& maybe cancer
is the one connector,
the awfulness
that blesses strength
& weakness equally,
but really I am talking
about the dinner table
in my childhood
that always was
like cancer, always felt
like a safe place where
only terrible things
could happen.
No one, in our nation
of heat, believes
in a painless world,
but we could watch
our words the way
we watch our bodies.
We could give a damn.
