Geoff Dyer, analyzing the tradition of writing about boxing by Faulkner, Thom Jones and other American fiction writers, describes a prosody of inarticulate articulateness: “To succeed,” he writes, “. . . language has to break itself up. Its clarity and precision are synonymous with its propensity for self-maiming. Its power is inextricably bound up with and dependent on its capacity to damage itself.”
In July 2010, Morgan’s lead cystic fibrosis doctor told him that based on his pulmonary function tests, he had a 50% chance of living five years without new lungs. As I write this a year later, after three more lengthy hospitalizations to address infections, Morgan has successfully completed the extensive testing making him eligible for double-lung transplant.
“When I get new lungs,” Morgan asks, “will I even be a poet? What will my line be like?”