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Dark Comedy by Cameron Morse

Temodar, did I dream the doctor said
it would be you, not the tumor, it would be you
who murders me? Dear friend,
what times we have had: Lots of good
fun that is funny. I am today
two years older than Bill Hicks was
when his pancreas ate him
alive, as I still am, pretty much,
as heavy as my left foot is leaden to lift
in the Temodar dark of February before dawn,
the long razor strop rasp of a pendulous
slab I have to raise, purposely lift into silence,
as I ambulate. My lymphocytes lie dead
in the dark pancreas my doctor says will eat me.

thq-feather-sm

Cameron Morse is Senior Reviews editor at Harbor Review and the author of eight collections of poetry. His first collection, Fall Risk, won Glass Lyre Press’s 2018 Best Book Award. His latest is The Thing Is (Briar Creek Press, 2021). He holds an MFA from the University of Kansas City-Missouri and lives in Independence, Missouri, with his wife Lili and three children. For more information, check out his Facebook page or website.