I’m reading a story

By Lorrie Moore.

She feels like

A wittier,

More talented me.

She doesn’t live far from Chicago.

Maybe I will stalk her

Until she agrees to be my friend.

But this story is a little different.

It’s about cancer

And rational suicide.

It’s reminding me

That I have nowhere to hide,

No hand to hold,

That one day

I will be a pile of agonizing flesh

And the people who love me

Will hope for a quick death

So they can go back 

To their picnic in the park

Until it’s their turn 

To inconvenience others.