When I entered <br />the Teacher’s Center <br />I could barely contain myself <br />saying, “All of a sudden <br />tomatoes <br />became my favorite <br />like apples I eat ‘em...” <br />Just then the cell phone <br />chimed <br />Vincent Hale immediately <br />flipped it open listened <br />and a moment later said, “Don’t worry <br />just lay down <br />put a cold compress <br />on your forehead <br />and yes, yes, I’ll be right home.” <br />Henry F glanced at me. <br />Vincent moaned, “Mary thinks <br />she felt a lump <br />on her left breast <br />she’s terribly worried so I’m leaving.” <br />Mary Hale suffered greatly, <br />in the mind, <br />nevertheless <br />such suffering was all too real— <br />a hypochondriac <br />the slightest ailment set her off <br />like two years ago <br />she experienced a pinched nerve, <br />but to her <br />a melon sized tumor <br />caused the pain <br />even though doctor after doctor <br />assured her the situation <br />would resolve itself <br />which is what happened <br />but Mary knew an irrefutable truth— <br />one day death <br />and this thought <br />haunted her like a plague <br />so she wanted absolute assurance <br />from every doctor <br />whatever ailment she thought <br />she had <br />would not lead to death: <br />a hopeless quest <br />but Vincent loved her <br />so on and on <br />to every doctor <br />in Brooklyn <br />up to “M” <br />so far <br />Mary <br />still <br />in terror <br />yet hoping her luck <br />would change <br />with “M” <br />the first <br />letter <br />of her name.<br /><br />Charles Chaim Wax<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dreading-certainty/
