Karmacoma

Walking  home,

Zappa on my I-Pod

As I’m thinking, Dad,

 that Frank shared a birthday

and a cancer with you  .

Chilling with  Massive Attack

The heartbeat pulse of

Karmacoma reminding me

Of  the dreaded word

Which has entered

our lives.

( My Dad passed away in 2011, and this poem was written at the time of his diagnosis, I think the word play works...)