Again in my face,
on face:
"That *******, cancer, **** him!
Like if you agree!"

I'd sooner agree to stop this ****,
this childish personification
of disease:
for that, we have
already
all the priests,
the telemarketers,
the insidious well intentioned,
the shiny cogs rusting from the inside,
the good samaritans smiling
with white teeth
and green wallets
surrounded by black
children they saver
from malaria
("Keep your donations coming
and share this post,
we can really make a difference!)
and,
not least,
the ones who insist
on kicking
at your door at 11 a.m.
any day
of the week.

No,
cancer is not
an *******:
it just happens
to happen
to them
and to others

as well.