Week 6- Poem 3 by Ken Arnold

Poem 3 by Ken Arnold

Note:  since this poem was written Ken found out that his own cancer has spread and he has begun chemotherapy, for the first time, as well.  He is in his first round as of today, August 24, 2013.  Please send your thoughts his way.  I think we will see much more poetry on chemo once he’s has experience it personally.  What a treasure to have a poet interpret it for  us.  This poem is exactly what I feel.

 

The poison goes in

here. It’s called a port.

It docks here like a ship

 

unloading the exotic,

but it’s toxic,

not what you’d want on your

 

walls, like art or damask.

The poison goes round

and round and you are

 

the merry-go-round,

the camel or the ostrich,

and it rides you,

 

oh, yes, like little children

who know not what they do.

Giddy-up,

 

body. What rides you

is indifferent to you.

It only cares

 

about itself. But the ride

is worth the ticket:

think of what you’ve learned,

 

that you are not your

body, not your hair,

nor even your perfect boobs.

 

Like a cat stalking

a sparrow, the poison

pounces. You fly away.

 

 

 

 

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