I don't know if there's much record of Dorn closely reading Spicer, so it seems to me that for one book he independently arrived at the same font of transmission Spicer felt beckoned by, fine-tuned of course by sardonic footnotes, enjambments redolent of Creeley, titles almost as long as the poems themselves, & quasi-correctives to a world of poetry gone much too static & in love with its own cascading noise pollution. Dorn wouldn't do anything before or after with this same sort of dry, Spicerian declarative voice, & for that it's well worth seeking out—it has been reproduced in the Collected volume Carcanet put out in 2012.
Beyond its value as a work of singularity in Dorn's formidable œuvre, it has some of his finest epigrammatic works & flashes of epiphanic light, like bolts on a cloudless day, & we are left "bewildered by its blue," as Spicer would have it:
"If Somebody Asks You Where You Come from Remember"
There are two categories of soil
The soil of transport (a)
And the other is the soil of disintegration
Which can be found anywhere
but especially in mountains.
Runoff goeth down to the valley,
into the soil of transport.
(a) And that would be anywhere between the Appalachians and the Rockies.