About four years ago, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.
This is the part where I'm telling you about what
I've been doing lately.
And it was-- this also will tell you just how tacky I am,
I'm fairly chatty woman, I don't mind.
And I had-- I was diagnosed it was discovered
because my kids had been bugging me about getting
a mammogram for a long time.
But then, I went to a new internist--
this will not surprise anybody-- anybody
who knows me knows I want them fine-- he was awfully cute, you know?
And he wanted me to have a mammogram and he said,
I won't be happy if you don't have a mammogram.
And to make him happy, I had a mammogram.
And in fact had early diagnosis of cancer, the breast cancer.
And so I wrote some poems about I
had a lumpectomy, and radiation, and all of that.
And I wrote some poems about it.
This is called "Lumpectomy Eve."
It is the evening before bed.
All night, I dream of lips that nurse and nurse
and the lonely nipple lost in loss,
and the need to feed that turns that last on itself,
that will kill its body for its hunger's sake.
All night, I hear the whispering, the soft "love
calls you to this knife.
For love, for love."
All night, it is the one breast comforting the other.