Sloan Kettering

Standing bare foot on the hot charred boardwalk
the smell of baked wood and nails
staring to the side not at the ocean
I can't look at something beautiful right now

Mom is at the pay phone calling Mary
Her best friend,
the one who drove her to the hospital in her new convertible
so that I could be born

Mom had softly mentioned through out the vacation
Mrs. Mazon was to get her test results from the same hospital
You did not use phones in hotel rooms
she gathered many coins and asked for long distance

I knew the news before she hung up
cancer, a sentence for women in the 70's
we thought they were treating her
decades later I learned, there was no treatment, just pain meds

The truth struck me down
a rush of sadness, nausea and disbelief
I felt betrayed for me, for women, for their families
for the lies and losses, for Mary

sad, all over, for the lack of respect
For those that bring forth life,
No chances, no research for women
How could they ignore, did they not love their own mothers?

A hearse arrived at sunset as we played on my street
A friend said Mrs. Mazon died and I yelled at them "take it back"
I could not believe it was not an ambulance for one last chance
I refused to believe it until I saw men rolling something out, than I cried

30 some years later I stand at 66th & 2nd Ave
A glistening new cancer hospital is complete
I still feel the betrayal and am choking back
People of medicine let women die

A new cathedral to save the dying
What is the truth?
How can we save our sisters and daughters?
Will they tear this building down when they have found a cure?