Rampant, bloody butterfly, my wayward
thyroid flecked its winglike lobes with tumors,
its antic throb across the sonogram
all loveliness—: a vivid, sylvan show
more terrible than the imagined black
blotch, black canker corroding my tissues,
black crab furtive with scuttering claws.
Not crabbed at all, this life of wings expanding
to fill the screen, their cathode glow
fills the clinical dark, flutters my skin
in green. My heart flutters in my throat
at this strange creature taking wing
in whose cells I am magnified, lush in heyday.
"Ode on My Cancer", Kimberly Johnson