Finish Line (Survival Odds)

No I don’t have time for you today cancer thanks

but no thanks I have thought about you enough

over the last few months to last me a whole lifetime

whatever tumour stats are pumped into the prognosis

predictor algorithms I know arbitrage is risky at my

age and the sum of my days will metastasise into death’s

fixed odds anyway but the sudden fact of your existence

raised them in your favour let’s face it midlife is a numbers

game a law of diminishing returns an unfair exchange

where you’re the banker so I can’t afford to leave it to

chance that I’ll get lucky now it’s an ante post in-play

race against time I’m not sure whether to go with the

tipsters’ favourite accumulation hare because my money’s

on the underdog tortoise hobbled by the asian handicap

of dwindling days while your spread’s already laid on the

hare so you hit a double dutch payoff each time one of my

cells divides each way you’re covered as the closing line

looms looking like the outright winner while I’m the long

shot maiden unless my last ditch martingale punt makes

me a better all out selection I’m going all in all weather in

play or not no also ran for me quids in even if I’m disqualified

for hormone therapy doping that still feels like gold to me

not a miss pink ribbon congeniality medal for good sport

survivors I’m favourite for nailed on the nose dead heat

this filly’s still got form

By Kate Meyer-Currey 

From: United Kingdom

Instagram: DrKMc