Tits Up in 2020
It all went tits up in ’20
when the dreaded news arrived.
Your genes have let you down again,
just not the denim kind.
The Big C came a-prowling
like a slinking toxic cat.
It took me in its gaping maw
and bit me, just like that.
The lights went out in my world,
I couldn’t see a future.
Big C stole away from me
my life. O’ scavenging vulture.
For years it sat in wait
patient for the time,
to plant its sickly seed inside
so gluttonous to dine.
Greedy, gorging, growing fast
it revelled in my plight.
Big C grew complacent
for I had found my fight.
I see you now, breastless,
poisoned, starved and dying.
A shrinking salted slug.
Now you’re the one who’s crying.