hands of ether break the chains that bind,
No triple-headed dog confronts the dead:
Before Elysium, my wraith will find
A cat with a corona on his head,
Who purrs and tells me, "Once again, we meet,
Our halos duly stamped and certified;
My cancer and your anguish gave them heat,
And they burned brighter every time I died."
I answer him: "They cut your tumor out,
And placed it in a balance, set apart
From that frail organ — where, I have no doubt,
Your ounce of flesh outweighed the human heart,
And if you thought to eat me, little beau,
You got here first — I guess we'll never know."
© 2008 by Ellin Anderson. All rights
No part of this work may be copied or used in any way
without written permission from the author.