TONIGHT I SWOON by Beth Haist

I wonder if my chromosomes
Line up right.

Or if some free radical
Is leading a revolution
Tearing my flesh
With his tiny bayonet.

I think I hear a war whoop
As my CEA number climbs.

I dream I’m caught under a sheet
Until my twin shows me
How easy an escape is–

I try to remember
If the rolling landscapes of smoke,
The lazy S’s, the purple
Grey helixes

Were worth this Southern belle
Lightheadedness.

Today, Mr. Oncologist and his boy wonder–
Decipher me.
Like their first Christmas, they muse over
Oat cell, small cell or maybe

Meta-jumble
Bemused over-the-glasses stare
When I break the code
(And remind them
I’m still here).

Hard-won irradiation
Earned rendering to dust-
It’s a given
Roller coaster ride-
Of nausea.

Fault-lines point to me.
My thick-fisted earnesty
That drove each
Gleaming sheath of smoke
Every jab in the air.

My firestick.
My yellow-tipped fingers.
My rivulets of lines

Turning my face
Into a casino 25 cent slot stare.

Nobody escapes
Even if you play it right:

Why couldn’t I be just a drunk?
Life-of-the-party inflatable
Punching bag.

Don’t they always walk away
From the 3- car pile-up
That killed a family of 4-

I don’t want the right thing.
Give me the sweet,slow noose–
Western hands torture
Shock and Awe
Every cell into submission.

Who can stop a train?

So, tonight a thin, burnt tendril
Of me
Hangs in the air-

What will you remember?
What will you forget?

At first, it was religious drawn intent-
Meditative inhale/exhale
That stole my breath.

Really it filled me
Really it helped.

Now just a Beloved
Memory.

Forgive me,

(Beth).