The June Diagnosis - Poem

Photo: Chris and Stanley (c. 2009)

You’d think he was a kid again

sleeping in his mothers bed. 

He’s got two of his own now, 

the June diagnosis ain’t beating him. 

Sleeping in his mothers bed.

Dreaming of being back home,

the June diagnosis ain’t beating him, 

he’s lucky they caught it so soon. 

Dreaming of being back home. 

Mum sleeps on the couch,

he’s lucky they caught it so soon.  

Still wishing he had his old appetite, though. 

Mum sleeps on the couch, 

she buys him angels delight 

Still wishes he had his old appetite, though, 

roll a joint, his stomach stirs. 

She buys him angels delight, 

There’s so much blood. 

Roll a joint, his stomach stirs, 

He’s racing to the toilet. 

There’s so much blood, 

his heart’s in his mouth, 

He’s racing to the toilet. 

Now he’s back where it started. 

His heart is in his mouth, 

Aching and breaking,

now he’s back where it started. 

Worse off. 

Aching and breaking. 

Mum leaves to go home; she’s old.

Worse off.

The door closes, he decides its time. 

Mum leaves to go home; she’s old. 

On the screen there’s a flatline. 

The door closes, he decides it’s time. 

Causing mischief. 

On the screen there’s a flatline. 

He’s running away, now’s the time. 

Causing mischief. 

You’d think he was a kid again.