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from Zen Cymru

hardly anything hurts here
front of the internet
finding out where it came from:


    personal history
    recurrent urinary tract infection
    external beam radiation
    consumption of aristolochia fangchi
    infection by parasite
    caffeine saccharin
    hairdresser machinist
    printer painter trucker
    rubber, chemical, textile, metal, leather worker
    smoker (greatest risk) dark tobacco
    after that light then second hand
    male over fifty
    worse as you age


Give up smoke. Get younger.


Have you brought your dressing gown? High eighties outside. I have not. You'd best wear this. Hospital tie-at-back shortie blue angel gown your NHS arse sticks out you can't go in there with your arse out I don't care put on these paper pants cover yourself there's a love. Cover my arse they won't. Edges flapping can't reach or be bothered. Goosebumps. Fear. You alright, Peter? You're next, my love. You are. There's a good boy.


On the screen it's like miniature DynoRod
hunting my house drains
water running so it slides
headlamp camera scouring plunger
At twenty meters they found a ring-seal loose
have to dig that out


On the notes when I browse them
while the nurse is out
the sketch looks like a sea anemone
still life: bladder with flower
done in biro
sideways on the urine analysis
Red cells present: too
many to number.


My father died in this building
five floors up from where I am now
sunlight streaming through the glass
nurse with stockings clearly visible
under her white dress neither
he nor I bothering
him pulling hard for breath and me
holding tight his hand. End game.


But this time, not yet.
I put the gown in the dumper &
the pants in the bin.
Breathe again.