He walked into the conference, <br />confronted all too sudden by <br />the earnest decibels of intellect <br />and penguin-like tuxedos. <br /> <br />He had requested a brief consultation <br />with the two founders of the system called OM, <br />instead, the cream of smart society <br />had gathered here to celebrate itself. <br /> <br />No one remembered him at all, <br />most likely they were secretaries, <br />those gaping cleavages on black tuxedo knees, <br />and here he was, alone again, the fear of death his mate. <br /> <br />'A Johnny Walker, please. No ice', <br />the waiter smiled and hurried to the bar, <br />clairvoyant kindness left the sevenhundred mil <br />as if it were a potent elixir. <br /> <br />He did receive some courage then from Johnny, <br />and wandered to the centre of the hall. <br />With glassy eyes he started his strange plea, <br />'there is this cancer, gentlemen, so can you help? ' <br /> <br />So, Pauling, Hoffer, Riordan, Hughes et al <br />first listened closely then the verdict was pronounced. <br />'You will most likely get an instant retardation, <br />while hoping cytostasis can be (help me) done. <br /> <br />Unless repression of the tumour's in the cards <br />you will not see the light of many carefree days.' <br />He'd hoped for more, of course, for something like a pledge, <br />instead they toasted with their handmade crystal glasses. <br /> <br />There was no whisky but a slightly milky drink. <br />It was the stuff that later saved the fellow's life.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ascorbate-for-cancer/
