He deals with his cancer just like he dealt <br />with that stupid war back in the Nam; he curses himself <br />for all those unfiltered cigarettes he smoked in between <br />lighting up the jungle with tracers so he could see to shoot <br />another pair of black pajamas in the rice paddy below <br />who was still aiming a loaded weapon at him and his buddy’s head… <br />Read my lips Charlie…you’re dead. <br />He deals with his cancer just like he dealt <br />with that cheating dumb bitch of a first wife; he knew <br />how she had mourned deeply over the death of Elvis and not <br />for the death of his love or his active sex drive after he’d <br />caught her in bed with that eight inch chocolate vibrator <br />which had come complete with another man’s body attached. <br />He deals with his cancer just like he dealt <br />with his kids; promising not to nurture growing young sociopaths <br />with new toys and fancy cars but rather to deny them like he had been <br />by a father who made him work for every dime he ever had. <br />Tough love from a tough man…. <br />He deals with his cancer just like he dealt with everything in life; <br />knowing that God loves him and he had brought him down <br />to a level, where even he could be broken…and then reborn… <br />Crying salted tears, he leaves a note…telling Cancer to kiss his ass… <br /> <br />2008 ©<br /><br />Ted Sheridan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/tough-love-and-salted-tears-of-no-fear/
