Tuesday, May 16, 2006

5.16.06, [New] Poem & Warranty Update

[short addition tonight]
I cannot find what book of his, what journal, rag, or paper it's from but here's a Robert Creeley poem that might provoke--this the one found written upside down in the back cover of Althusser's The Future Lasts Forever--a brilliant book, more later... Now Creeley:

"THE SENTENCE"

There is that in love
which, by the syntax of,
men find women and join
their bodies to their minds

--which wants so to acquire
a continuity, a place,
a demonstration that it must
be one's own sentence.

When the "mean find women and join / their bodies to their minds" I'm reminded of the cummings' poem, and "boys off with girls will go..." or something rather like it--the rest of the poem is about death, with the clincher being this continuing continuing.

Till tomorrow.

[what was already found here]
A mundane post, informational, short. Later today there are some poetic things I'd like to post: poems submitted here (ever and always Other Peoples Poetry), a poem I found scribbled into the back cover of an Althusser book, etc. For now though this.

(Does everyone listen to Erik Satie? I highly recommend it. I have him playing the background, a perfect blend of simplicity, experimentation, and some whimsy to keep it balanced out.)

Tomorrow is the Restaging I wrote about, but there are a couple of modifications. Tomorrow is going to be the CT scans, drinking my two quarts of barium smoothly--yum--waiting, then lying on the table that slides up and down through the very expensive tube. All of which is pretty simple. No pain, no worries. Just a short fast and a hospital visit where they will 'access' my port-o-cath (which I recently learned is the proper spelling--another spelling correction from an early post: Dr. Melfi of Sopranos fame is spelled like that, with an "e," but I was spelling it wrong for a while. Apologies to the good doctor.)

So the 17th is restaging, the technical side of it, but I just learned that on the 18th I meet with my dr. in the morning to discuss the radiography and whatever other data they have. That means the 18th will really be the telling day, if there is anything new to tell. This means an extra day, a reprieve, or if you like, another 24 hours of anxiety. If there's news to come, then, it will be after the 18th. I'll report back then.

Franky Scale: 8. Another day without chemo drugs, thank you Cheebus. Another day of simple pain management. A day to start reading this book I finally picked up called Everyone's Guide to Cancer Therapy. Basic, not full of cutting edge developments--which I am pursuing through other channels--but seems to have some good information. I did see at the bookstore the solution to all my problems yesterday, too; it's called something like The CURE to All Forms of Advanced Cancer. Isn't that great? The cure to everything, and to my surprise this little gem is just sitting there relatively unknown--and for sale in a legitimate bookstore--the cure to all of it, and yet so many people in the world still suffer. You should see some of the insane shit they put in these books. One key step in curing ALL cancers, as I learned from a quick skim, is to go immediately to your dentist and have every single tooth with any metal, porcelain, or other non-tooth material in it extracted. Rip 'em out. Who knew? If you're not willing to do this, you're not willing to be cured. Apparently. Makes me want to spit seeing shit like this.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

hey, i know a great dentist ;)

Slarry said...

SOME THOUGHTS ON 'WAITING"
As a writer, my brother must not be stranger to the art and pain of "waiting". Anyone who is creative, (and he is), especially with words, like a poet having to wait for the perfect word to complete an eloquent sentence, has to have patience. Patience is something I don't have, or at least, something I struggle with. So, anyone who is patient, I admire, especially if they are also creative and bright.
Yet as I read his writings, his blog-- and think of the "waiting" he is going through now-- I'm even more amazed at his patience. I often try and hide these feelings from him-- I know that he knows that I worry-- but even in pain, he still tries to shield and protect me. Who does that? Who has that kind of strength? Certainly not me.
So when I think about the anxiety and angst my brother must be going through-- having to wait, not for a perfect word, for the poet, but having to wait for tests and the results of those tests. And how those results may reshape his decesions and life-- all I can do, is admire and love him all the more.
I wish I could just go shopping at Sears or Circuit City, where they are always trying to sell you an "extended warranty" for your purchase. I always say, "No." but I would agree this time, happily and with joy, if it granted him a good nights sleep, a day without pain, a day without waiting.
You never know with Scott -- he just may surprise us all. He is so strong willed, determined, courageous and we are all aware of his beautiful mind.
So, dear brother, I wouldn't be so certain about the coffee grinder. Just know I will be here / there always-- supporting and loving you, as you continue to rage and fight, against this waiting time and this ill mannered disease. You are a good shopper. Knowing to stay away from, and spit on those CURE ALL BOOKS. I spit on them too.
You will be on my mind and in my heart.
Tell Ms. K hello-- and thanks.. Truly, I cannot wait to meet her and treat her to a night out on the town.
And to my own Dr. Malfie-- I thank you more than I can express, for your wisdom, patience, compassion and continuity. Without you, I would be lost.
Love and hugs to Spot, Steph, Spacey, Salad head, the Nade, Ms. Daisy and Mr. Frank--- even the kid who mowed my lawn. ( I owe you a coconut sorbet.)
Spot-- all my thoughts, wishes and strength I give to you.
Love,
Sheri