Dorothy Molloy’s poem ‘Gethsemane Day’ about her liver cancer

“They’ve taken my liver down to the lab,
left the rest of me here on the bed;
the blood I am sweating rubs off on the sheet,
but I’m still holding on to my head.


What cocktail is Daddy preparing for me?
What ferments in pathology’s sink?
Tonight they will tell me,
will proffer the cup, and, like it or not, I must drink.”

Taken from the Irish Times review of the collected, The Poems of Dorothy Molly (Faber)

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