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Three poems

Sarah Crowe

(C/W: cancer)

liverish

there’s nothing exciting on my ct

but he’s concerned about my liver –

and so am I

thirty years of pubs and parties

 

he wants to ultrasound it

lesion

 

a/c ices my exposed skin

his probe drawing

snail trails of ky jelly

on my abdomen

acoustic enhancement

 

his eyes fix

on the monitor

of grey ghosts

hypoechoic

 

i scan his poker face

he wants a second opinion

 

my mouth dries

he turns to my husband

? mets

 

 

 

(C/W: menstruation)

a medically induced menopause

from chemo

thank you                                breast cancer

 

i pass the                                             oestrogen baton

to my teenage daughter,

who gives me receipts

of         illogical arguments and backchat

 

blushes at the male gaze

 

she starts menstruating

…………………….gets the HPV jab

i stop menstruating

…………………….get refused HRT

 

she turns prismatic

i turn monochromic

 

she is in the first flush of womanhood

i desiccate                   hot flushes

punctuated with         flash floods

 

she becomes visible

i become

 

 

 

 

Diminuendo

We walked and talked in circles,

on wind-washed September pavements.

 

After,               you’d played Mozart’s unfinished

Fantasia in D Minor    for piano

an infinite coda.

 

Then,                           we’d watched the juvenile swallows

on the telegraph wires

all jittery and twitchy.

Crotchets flying

all over the stave

…………arpeggios of cacophony.

 

How they all just disappeared

…………………………………………into the white

 

Diminuendo

 

Rest

 

 

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