​The Cancer I Don’t Write About, by Barbara Krasner

The Bleeding Roses, by Salvador Dali (Spain) 1930

​The Cancer I Don’t Write About
 
Like Dali’s wife, Gala, I too had uterine cancer
wrenched by robotic arms from my body--
uterus, cervix, fallopian tubes—a total loss
of fifteen ounces of tools and platforms
no longer needed. 
 
I did not feel any blood. I did not feel 
piercing rose thorns or scalpel blades. 
I thought I might feel less
like a woman, but I didn’t. 
 
I wanted to rock-block those cancer cells 
like those combative robot toys 
of the 1970s. I had nothing to hold on to
except my doctor’s promises and my son’s
unconditional devotion to buying me action
figure Ben of the Fantastic Four. Because
I was going to beat this, beat the cancer rock
to a pulp and let it drip like days-old coffee
out of my body without gaze.

Barbara Krasner

Barbara Krasner holds an MFA from the Vermont College of Fine Arts. Her work has been featured previously in The Ekphrastic Review, Here, Caesura, Nimrod, and elsewhere. She lives and teaches in New Jersey and can be found at www.barbarakrasner.com.