by Marc Tretin
I won’t get tattooed nipples. The insurance
will not pay to move my ass to my chest.
At my office I’ll make a flat appearance.
They will think I’m brave, they’ll be impressed.
I’d play my loss lightly with a feminist
twist. Though women lose more body parts than men
men pull on their pants, scared they were de-penist.
The odds are that I’d get cancer again.
You say my inner work is to make meaning
from loss. HA! Inner work is for jerks.
My satisfaction, while hiding my smirk
is going in for a symbolic kill
like—as a kid—I put my gerbil on the grill.