They come in threes, they say. Bad things come in threes. And sure

enough, bad tidings rode in on their serrated fonts in swirling

impatient portals: an unholy trinity of cyst, malignancy and mass.

One slung sideways, like a fanny pack across a kidney sack, a second,

mortared to wind pipe, spewing ash into places unknown, a third sucking

marrow from mammary glands like a motherfucker. Unsanctified settlers,

all. Mother of all that is Holy, who let in the false prophet, the devil, the

beast to cast rings around x-rays and pockets full of poison, ashen shadows

on MRI scans? All that rot and stink and bile planted like rancid Easter eggs,

tangled spiders’ nests, like hissing snakes in sacred sanctuaries… Such blatant

blasphemy. Such sick sacrilege. But then, while bad things come in threes, so

too, do good. And we believe in the Good — that Triumvirate of Truth: Faith

and Hope and Love. And the greatest of these is Love. Love lends strength and

courage to fight. When we harness for God the energies of love, then love will

help conquer all. Together, we’ll banish the bad for Good.     Even the dirty, rotten C word.