The Cancer Match

The Cancer Match James Dickey Lord, you've sent both And may have come yourself. I will sit down, bearing up under The death of light very well, and we will all Have a drink. Two or three, maybe. I see now the delights Of being let "come home" From the hospital. Night! I don't have all the time In the world, but I have all night. I have space for me and my house, And I have cancer and whiskey In a lovely relation. They are squared off, here on my ground. They are fighting, Or are they dancing? I have been told and told That medicine has no hope, or anything More to give, But they have no idea What hope is, or how it comes. You take these two things: This bourbon and this thing growing. Why, They are like boys! They bow To each other From James Dickey, The Eye-heaters, Blood, Victory, Madness, Buckhead and Mercy (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1969), 31-32. Copyright © 1968,1969, 1970 by James Dickey. Reprinted with permission of Doubleday. Literature and Medicine 13, no. 2 (Fall 1994) 203-204 204 THE CANCER MATCH Like judo masters, One of them jumping for joy, and I watch them struggle All around the room, inside and out Of the house, as they battle Near the mailbox And superbly For the street-lights! Internally, I rise like my old self To watch: and remember, ladies and gentlemen, We are looking at this match From the standpoint Of tonight Alone. Swarm over him, my joy, my laughter, my Basic Life Force! Let your bright sword-arm stream Into that turgid hulk, the worst Of me, growing: Get 'im, O Self Like a beloved son! One more time! Tonight we are going Good better and better we are going To win, and not only win but win Big, win big. (1968) ...