Chemo Sabe

by Ed Dorn

Paperback

First published May 1, 2001

About the author

Edward Merton Dorn was born in Villa Grove, Illinois. He grew up in rural poverty during the Great Depression. He attended a one-room schoolhouse for his first eight grades. He later studied at the University of Illinois and at Black Mountain College (1950-55). At Black Mountain he came into contact with Charles Olson, who greatly influenced his literary worldview and his sense of himself as poet.[citation needed]

Dorn's final examiner at Black Mountain was Robert Creeley, with whom, along with the poet Robert Duncan, Dorn became included as one of a trio of younger poets later associated with Black Mountain and with Charles Olson.

Reviews

[Sam · Rating 3 out of 5]

“Comes the quasi inevitable dawn,
The blinds are venetian.
In Venice, eight hours ahead
The Doge, whose shutters
Were opened by the porcelain hand
Of the singular Roman god
Turns and hocks.

My ceiling fan whirls inside
The wind twirls in
The aeolian Colorado dust
The hand with the Atavan,
The keeper of the exit
Oxycontin could put the dead to sleep—

But Oxycontin can wake the living
Just as well, Oxycontin can do anything,
Oxycontin can make you feel Nothing
And there are times Nothing is exactly
What you most desire to feel.”
—
“Blood pressure normal to perfect
as usual. My tumor is watching all this.
My tumor is hearing all this. My tumor
is interested in what interests me, and
she detests who and what I detest.
My tumor is not interested in what
or who I love,
My tumor is not interested in love,
no neoplasm is—the blind cells thereof
are not interested in love or affection,
she sends out little colonies, chipped genes
mark their crossing the river, they are
without variation, they keep time with terror.”
—
“I suppose I made a smart remark
as usual, my tongue has been
my genius and my downfall.
The nurse began to collect the specimen
with ever increasing pressure on the split flesh
I nearly fainted, but not a tear
fell from my lid, and not a throb shook my throat
until I'd left the collecting station
and then I shook and wept, and Jesus,
I'm sorry to say I hated that
bloodworker even despite the fact
that I knew she couldn't help
what she had a great irresistable
need to do, to hurt me deeply
because I was a bearer of cancer.

We had saluted the day when
Jenny said WHITE RABBIT.
I lay for a while trying to think
what would I wish for if such a genie
really delivered—a dismissal of the alien?
... no. There are wishes too complex to be granted.
I wished (and I'm not supposed to tell you this!)
I wished for a needle worker to
set up my infusion lines
without blowing a vein.
And lo and behold, into the
waiting room came a nurse
like on a half shell
except dressed in white
and led me to a small room
with a TV/ video cassette port

which I'd never reached before.
Flawless butterfly insertion
uncomplicated, competent anchoring
I could have wept at my good fortune
but I didn't, I thanked her
sincerely and asked for a V-8 juice,
I was even drinking it without enzymes.”
—
“Iodine, Iodine
Suffering, lodine.
Suffering suffering
lodine.
Balls of fire,
Balls on fire,

Suffering the infusion
The euphemism
Taking the contrast
Illuminating the billboard
The environment of poison
The ditches of societal suicide.

Throat ripping
Ball torching
Fire balling
Gut trenching, war—
The lodine drift
In the trenches
The blasting of the seat
of the soul, loading
lodine fire, barbed
Wire snaking through the veins.”
—
“The death was instant
I like the sound of that
Instant death is God's deliverance
lingering death is God's indecision
and the Devil's successful advocacy
Lingering illness
followed by Death
is God's wavering
and impudence”
—
“Pain is the prison
it's inside, the prism
bends the pain.
In the artificial prison
down the millennia
the victim lives inside
the prison, lies
on the steel cot.”
—
“Lord, your mercy is stretched so thin
to accommodate the need
of the trembling earth—
How can I solicit even
a particle of it
for the relief of my singularity
the single White Rose
across the garden will
return next year
identical to your faith—
the White Rose, whose
house is light against the
threatening darkness.”