Slow Dance is a poem by David L. Weatherford which has been widely circulated under an email hoax letter. It reprints a poem, called Slow Dance, supposedly written by a terminally ill young girl in New York. Ever told your child, we'll do it tomorrow, and in your haste, not see his sorrow? I love this, Matthew! There is no one to save us because there is no need to be saved. It claims the American Cancer Society will make a donation (three cents) to her treatment and recovery plan for each name the email is forwarded to. In fact, the piece was penned by David L. Weatherford, poet and child psychologist. Available Every Minute of Every Day. One of the most widely-spread viral emails we've ever seen has found new life on Facebook. Reedy...In an effort to boost public health and help keep vaccinations on track in the midst of the coronavirus pandemic, the American Cancer Society is renewing Mission: HPV Cancer Free, a campaign to...© 2017 American Cancer Society, Inc. All rights reserved. It could be so much better if it wasn't so obviously in love with itself. The American Cancer Society is a qualified 501(c)(3) tax-exempt organization. I absolutely love this poem and Matthew's entire collection that it appears in -
The e-mail claims that the poem was written by a young cancer patient, and that forwarding the email will raise funds to support the American Cancer Society. The slow dance of what’s to come and the slow dance of insomnia pouring across the floor like bath water. There are parts I love about this and parts that, well, deserve to be struck out with vehemence. We certainly appreciate the good intentions of those who post the message. But forwarding this message on your Facebook wall isn't going to do much beyond fooling more people into thinking they're helping. One of the most widely-spread viral emails we've ever seen has found new life on Facebook. With all the simile thrown at the reader, it is hard to like this poem. Slow Dance Charity Hoax written by Brett M. Christensen November 13, 2016 This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.© Poems are the property of their respective owners. This viral message has been around in some form or another since at least 1997.In fact, none of it is true. I’ve hurt you. We can only hope people who want to help will be inspired by this message, and channel that energy into legitimate ways to assist the millions of people affected by cancer, many of whom rely on legtimate cance rorganizations (and there are many, in addition to the American Cancer Society) to reduce suffering caused by cancerThe American Cancer Society has launched a COVID-19 and Cancer ECHO to share up-to-date information with non-paid caregivers about how the COVID-19 pandemic impacts the care of cancer patients....Gary Reedy, chief executive officer for the American Cancer Society (ACS) and American Cancer Society Cancer Action Network (ACS CAN), announced today that he will retire in April 2021. You had my imagination going all which ways. “Slow Dance” can be viewed on the poet’s website. Then there's absolutely human, or insomnia pouring across the floor like bath water or the slow dance of ritual is being spit into the sink (ok, but much better without of ritual since that's kinda the point of the poem anyway) or the triteness of There is no one to save us/because there is no need to be saved (at least strike because) or the blather of like an over-sexed chandelier suddenly come to life (how else would an over-sexed chandelier come to life except suddenly if it decided to come to life?)
It reprints a poem, called Slow Dance, supposedly written by a terminally ill young girl in New York. Cancer.org is provided courtesy of the Leo and Gloria Rosen family.Cancer Information, Answers, and Hope. Both claims are false. It claims the American Cancer Society will make a donation (three cents) to her treatment and recovery plan for each name the email is forwarded to. But in its insistence on the really exquisite it fails to live up to its potential. “Slow Dance”, the poem tacked onto the top of the email, was not written by “a terminally ill young girl in a New York Hospital” or a “teenager with cancer”. This starts early with the phrase really exquisite strangers, and one wonders(1) whether strangers alone won't do and (2) whether what follows is really exquisite. You better slow down, don't dance so fast, time is short, the music won't last. Nevertheless, I do. When the woman I’m sleeping with stands naked in the bathroom, brushing her teeth, the slow dance of ritual is being spit into the sink.
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