A Cage To Hold My Dreams
The Cancer Ward
I saw life today in a cancer ward,
veins with their knees apart
being violated by horrific treatments,
Nervous chatter scraping
like shingle on the tide.
They would rather be somewhere else,
anywhere but here,
where all that matters is what kind of cancer
they have, where they have it
and how long it has been there.
The doctors are experts at soothing nerves
and avoiding tricky questions
Words are chosen as skilfully
as the scalpels they use to gain entry.
'That wasn't so terrible, was it ?'
and 'You're looking better today'
get plenty of repetition
but behind the set-piece blarney
they work with a steely purpose
Elsewhere it is a normal Wednesday.
Here, nobody notices the rain
or hears the road-drill chew up and
spit out the concrete path
outside the window.
Theirs is a world apart,
isolated, anaesthetised, bonded
by the enormity of their fears.
Gears grind inside their heads,
they drive into walls, everything spins
out of control. Everyone outside the
treatment room is obscenely full
and they are empty.
I saw life today on a cancer ward.
A young woman trembled at the door
as if entering a condemned cell
God paused briefly at each bed
and made his choice
At two-fifteen a kindly lady
whose blue apron reached
halfway down her stove-pipe legs
asked with a cheery smile
if I would like some tea.
At that moment I wanted
more than anything to kill her.
