Cancer/writing Journal #96

I was tested for my PSA level again last week.   Again it was too low to be detected.  I asked about going off the testosterone blocker and she (a physician's assistant) wanted to consult with the doctor on the issue.  We will discuss it more when I go back in August for another appt.

Here is the poem that I wrote for the May meeting of my writer's group.  It was well enough received by the group but I don't think I will do more like it.  It is written after what I saw as the manner in which my friend, Jan Carroll, would write a poem.  Indeed, it was written while I was immersed in Jan's most recent book, Self-Portrait on Scraps of Paper.  I wrote a review of it which was published in the local arts and entertainment newspaper, "Volume One".  Jan Carroll can pull off writing like this.  I don't think I can.  I'm too self conscious, too aware of what I am doing.  But you judge for yourself whether I was successful here.

On Reading Jan Carroll’s Self-Portrait on Scraps of Paper.

Jackson Pollock, would you just be more careful!  

The cue ball flies off the table, leaving a train of thought derailed.

The Cheshire cat pops the cue ball in his mouth, making his grin lopsided.

“What’s wrong?  Cat got your tongue?”

“No, he’s got my cue ball.”

Quadratic equation with infinite variables

creates the graph line the ball bounces against. 

The line, straight only coincidentally and that, not for very long. 

Step aside Mr. Newton, make way Mr. Einstein. 

Quantum mechanics is getting your subatomic particle,

Entangling it in an uncertainty principle. 

 Here, no, there, no, here, no, there.

You don’t really know, do you? 

Pick whichever thimble feels right.

Can’t be both places at the same time, can it?

Remember that the principal is your pal.

He lets you play cat’s cradle with string theory.

“Daddy, will you get me an alternate world for my birthday?”

Daddy says, “Not until you learn to keep the cue ball on the table.”

“Oh Daddy, you really don’t get it, do you?  

There Is no way to keep a cue ball under a thimble.”

Hamlet: "There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio,

 than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

Horatio: “Hamlet, you don’t even know whether to be or not to be.

Keep your smug philosophy observations to yourself.”

Mr. Pollock, please be just a little more careful!