And the Time Is: Poems, 1958-2013

Sudden or Slow but Sure

210 Sudden or Slow but Sure Wounded by shrapnel in France six decades back, he’s still recovering from trauma caused by trauma. In every book by Edward Wood he resurrects the pain. When Hemingway received the wound that made him think at Fassalta de Piave, the outcome was the same: re-living and re-telling what was sudden, merciless and permanent. It’s not confined to war. Preparing for a trip to Europe, Reynolds Price complained of cramping in his lower back. X-rays confirmed a shadow. Days later he awoke from surgery a paraplegic. Shock was the first response, then transformation. Bernard Costello cased his saxophone to specialize in oral surgery after his dearest friend was mangled in a crash. H. R. survived a stroke but lived 211 a posthumous existence to the end. And there was Frank the catcher. Built like a heavyweight, he stood akimbo when he spoke, flexing his jaw as if each word were like a throw to second. First-string at twenty on the college varsity, he’d been approached by scouts and was inclined. Struck later in the jaw by a ball thrown wild and hard, he changed. Thirty pounds lighter with a wired jawbone and six teeth lost, he seemed uncertain to the point of deference. The list has no amen. To trump the odds, discretion matters less than valor, which matters less than zero where absurdity’s concerned. The ultimate defense is luck. The ultimate reprieve is luck. ...