Tiresome
Tuesday I’m having basal cancer cells removed,
delicately and in the smallest slices possible
until the life-threatening part is gone,
is the way it has been explained to me.
A month ago, we Swedish death-cleaned my closet,
threw away clothes I never wear, shoes 50 years old.
There were things I couldn’t identify.
As far as closets go, it was cathartic.
It’s like carefully weeding a garden
or carrying the moth that got in, back out,
you don’t hate them they’re just not healthy
parts of the plan, and in fact, are discomforting.
This is the Mohs procedure in my world,
and it seems nationally and globally,
we, collectively, strategically,
are trying to, as carefully as possible,
remove the cells of hatred, fear and retribution
that so divide us, and that when gone
will make existence on this planet
so much less fractured, warlike and tiresome.