results

This is the calculated consequence 

of chemo and cancer, 

the map and scan 

of my body undressed, 

laid on slab, then slid

through beams (of light, of love) electromagnetic 

waves (of oceansound) radiating 

energy through skin thin tissue, musclecells, 

and the compact calcium column of my spine. 

They are mapping the landscape

of dark stones scattered

across vertebrae, each found,

counted and charted,

connected (like stars).

I am sent out to sit with the others, 

paper cup of hot (rain) water in my hands.

a television hangs (like a sun flickering)

above us in the waiting.

I am in a race 

for which not advancing

makes you win.

And no progress is a pulse in the beating heart;  

a golden awarded breathlessness of relief;

Another average opening outward

of the heavy hospital door into air,

the Grand Prize.