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Trespassing








Trespassing





Cancer didn’t ask for an invitation,

didn’t knock on my front door,

he just showed up, sat down at 

my kitchen table filing his nails.

Cancer claimed it wasn’t personal,

but he didn’t care that I had a family,



Cancer mocked me:

You are an evolutionary anomaly:

mutating cells, random tumors,

collateral damage from feral DNA.    

Maybe you could blame 

bad genes from your parents.



But I didn’t want to wage 

a civil war against my body.

I only wanted the bastard 

out of my house,

No more knocks 

at my front door.






Frank C. Modica







Frank C Modica is a retired teacher who taught children with special needs for over 34 years.  Frank’s writing is animated by interests in history, geography, and sociology. He lives in a university community, where he enjoys the various cultural opportunities available to him.  His short story “Homemade” was selected as an Honorable Mention in the Midway Journal 2017 -1000 Below Flash Prose and Poetry contest. His work has appeared in Slab, Heyday, Cacti Fur, Black Heart Magazine, The Tishman Review, Crab Fat Literary Magazine, and FewerThan500.

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4 Comments

  1. A very powerful poem that brings a feeling of intimacy with what you are going through. Well done.

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  2. Amazing, powerful, painful. Thanks, Frank.

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