This poem is taken from PN Review 161, Volume 31 Number 3, January - February 2005.
Visiting the OncologistEach month, now, I visit the oncologist
Who reads my entrails and tells me the news is good.
Good news? Anyone can take it.
Suppose one month she tells me the news is bad:
That the cancer has spread and I should be writing my will.
Bad news? How would I take it?
Would I walk in the park
Admiring the trees and the lovers
...
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