Surprise

Cancer too is a prize

You don’t have to queue at the newsagent’s

to buy a ticket

They slip it in with the teddy bear,

the beatrix potter china setting,

the first photograph album,

unnoticed.

The final draw may be foreshadowed

in the missed stitch in the booties

grandma made

put aside, only used at your Baptism.

(“It was her last pair.  Do you think she knew?”)

Unlike the contents of your bowels

or your most recent projectile vomit,

it is not discussed in polite company.

It may stick its head around the corner at 3.30am,

pop into Dad’s thoughts as he tries to settle you

and sees his own mortality as he pictures his own father

rocking him 30 years ago,

and his grandfather walking the floor twenty years before that.

A link in the chain between first and last

Somewhere between the savannah and the heat death of the universe.

You can buy more tickets later on,

or be the lucky recipient of a random allocation.

Just like a five million dollar lottery.

You say you’ll keep working,

but you’ll find that you can’t.

Your colleagues no longer look at you,

well, not the same way.

Early retirement either way.

And lots of time to think.

***

In our illnesses, may we know that we are not alone, for everyone treads a version of this path.

May we know that we are loved along the way.

Albino Girl

I thought she was albino

’til I saw that her eyes were blue

I was gonna keep on going

just walk on through

you might think that was kind of rude

but she looked like she had bad attitude

***

Cute girl with the see through skin

I thought that she was

Albinan-ian

Cute girl with the veins that show through

What has nature done to you?

***

She replied:

Nature didn’t do this

It began with the

wrong boy’s kiss

Disease over which

love holds sway

Bad boy sucked all my colour away

***

Cute girl with the see through skin

I thought that she was

Albinan-ian

Cute girl with the veins that show through

What has that bad boy done to you?

***

I thought she was albino

’til I saw that her eyes were blue

She kept on going

just walked on through

you might think that was kind of rude

She repaid me for my bad attitude

***

Cute girl with the see through skin

I thought that she was

Albinan-ian

Cute girl with organs that show through

How can I ever forget you?

***

***

Gentle readers, you should hear me when I sing this.  Perhaps it is better that you don’t.  And yes, I am fully aware that while an albino person may come from Albania, that that is mere coincidence.  Remember, I have been issued with a poetic licence.  Perhaps a commentary on a certain type of singer, perhaps just stupidity.  Perhaps a cautionary tale for Twilight readers?  Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.  (And as I type this on a fine winter’s afternoon, I am rewarded for writing about colour with the eerie wail of a yellow tailed black cockatoo.)