The Moya View

Tag: Cancer poem

  • In the Cancer Museum

    In the Cancer Museum

    In the cancer museum I imagine where mine would rest in peace and ease.   My eyes scan rows of organs: Disney’s lungs on top of Newman’s own racy pair;   Ingrid Bergman’s left breast bump Bette Davis’ right— indiscreet voyagers;   Audrey Hepburn’s colon nesting Farrah Fawcett’s like Tiffany Angels.   I saw my…

  • All This Chemo Is Making My Brain So Bright

    All This Chemo Is Making My Brain So Bright

    Death, I notice, often comes with a smile and a kiss, a tender tuck of blanket into legs,   a pull to the shoulders making shroud complete, a tender whispered secret.   “Good bye” or “Good life”, it might be saying. But so does love.   2   The  light of the cancer center is…

  • The Nacre of Cancer

    The Nacre of Cancer

    I have no taste for whiskey, although it seems over the years I have developed a proclivity for cancer, for building the nacre into  pearl.   It’s funny how one can live with death scooted to the borders, listening to it rap the door with sub-audible gusts that only your dog hears and barks at.…