The Benefits Of Chemotherapy Poem by Frank Bana

No hair to cut, blow-dry or wax
No eyebrows screaming to be plucked
No vanity to cultivate or tend.
 
No weight of desire, secure against
The blandishments of an erotic age,
Your energy too low to run your debts.
 
But there's sufficient time to clear the mind
And, while statistics do not speak as one
Your life might be prolonged, you might be saved.
 
Yes, time to figure out a lobster roll
Time to write a more reflective poem
 
To read the history books you choose
To discover where and who you've been
And trace the future hidden in your skin.
 
Time to call lost friends and greet
The people in the next-door chairs
Make promises to meet again next week.
 
You can watch the spectral votes being cast
And lost or stolen on TV
And study all the details in the press.
 
You can stay indoors, indefinitely
Avoid the draft of mendacity
While studying a Tennessee Williams play.
 
Whether any one of us is cured?
Who knows, maybe yes, we all are.
Statistics are ambiguous, like I said.
 
Just ensure your nausea Meds are good
Allow yourself comfort. Be reassured:
There is so much more to life than death.