A few years ago a friend of mine went for a mammogram and she was so scared of what they might find that she fainted whilst still clamped into the machine. If you have ever had a mammogram you will know how hard they squeeze your boobs, so you will know how likely it is that if you faint, you will have to, um … hang? Awful as this is, it’s also quite funny. I thought maybe poetry was the best way to tackle it.
It’s an awkward moment in a woman’s life,
When the fear of going under the knife
Losing your hair
Losing your life,
Means you can barely stand on your shivering limbs
As you imagine your loved ones singing hymns.
You flop your breast onto a cold metal plate
And wait for the machine to decide your fate.
It squeezes so hard
It makes you cry
How will you ever say goodbye?
Forced into an unnatural slump
You obsess about them finding a lump.
As the robot gropes you
All of those hopes you
Have of growing old and wise
Vanish in the vision of your own demise.
The worries of what this result could mean
Overflow your brain
Wipe it clean.
No air can find its way to your head
One word is on your lips
Dead
Dead
Dead.
Stop being so silly, you make yourself think
But further away your faculties sink.
As the machine takes pictures
Snap
Snap
Snap
You’re left hanging
By the tit
From the Booby Trap.