In Inseminating the Elephant, Lucia Perillo begins her work with the poem “Virtue is the Best Helmet” (3). This poem introduces the reader to the recurring themes, namely the trials people go through living in what she calls the “meat cage” (3). With constant references to animals and the body, Perillo continues the themes of mortality and death throughout her collection, such as in poems “The Turtle’s Heart,” “In Vitro/In Vivo,” and “Number One,” among others.
Although her entire book is in one section, the beginning poems employ more from her background in biology, whereas towards the middle and end of the collection, Perillo becomes more involved with her poetry. However, in the title poem, Inseminating the Elephant, Perillo combines the two qualities of her biological knowledge and her involvement in her poems. This is suggested in lines like “there, now I’ve alluded/to my body that grows ever more inert” and “are you brave enough to side with laughter/if I face my purplish, raw reflection,” in which she refers directly to her medical issue and continues with science diction (83).
Many of Perillo’s poems read like prose. For example, in “Early Cascade” she describes eating a tomato and how she “salted the pieces in the dusk,/and found the flesh not mealy (like last year)/or bitter,/even when I swallowed the green crown of the stem” (54). In this poem, Perillo writes long lines using consistent subject-verb sentence structures, such as I cut, I swallowed, I could, I have not, etc. She writes whole sentences, as opposed to something like “salting pieces in the dusk, not mealy flesh, not bitter, not like last year, even when swallowing…” Several other poems in her collection read like this, such as “Transcendentalism” when she writes, “The professor stabbed his chest…we would have…I felt bad…There was…” (42).
Even though many of Perillo’s poems are written like this, what separates her poems from prose is her use of strong imagery and diction. As I mentioned, she demonstrates her biological knowledge in this collection and uses it to her advantage when describing imagery. For example, in “In Vitro/In Vivo” she writes how the “frog was not dead/but its brain had been pithed, which is what happens/when you stick a probe into the skull and wiggle…the frog’s blood cells/[jerked] through the narrow capillaries” (21). Part of how Perillo introduces her biological knowledge is through the setting at the first-aid training session. This enables her to use biological diction in such a way that it matches the tone of the poem, as opposed to trying to slip it in a poem that takes place at a restaurant. As a result, the speaker of the poem becomes an authority in the subject, making the imagery that much more powerful.
This authority allows the speaker to explain what pithing is, and as a result can build on that imagery as the poem goes on. For example, Perillo writes, “Here is the guy/who shot off his head, but wait: he’s still living,” an image that parallels the frog’s state. This parallel between the images acts as a metaphor—the man is the frog—which reinforces both images and, as a result, strengthens the poem.
Although her entire book is in one section, the beginning poems employ more from her background in biology, whereas towards the middle and end of the collection, Perillo becomes more involved with her poetry. However, in the title poem, Inseminating the Elephant, Perillo combines the two qualities of her biological knowledge and her involvement in her poems. This is suggested in lines like “there, now I’ve alluded/to my body that grows ever more inert” and “are you brave enough to side with laughter/if I face my purplish, raw reflection,” in which she refers directly to her medical issue and continues with science diction (83).
Many of Perillo’s poems read like prose. For example, in “Early Cascade” she describes eating a tomato and how she “salted the pieces in the dusk,/and found the flesh not mealy (like last year)/or bitter,/even when I swallowed the green crown of the stem” (54). In this poem, Perillo writes long lines using consistent subject-verb sentence structures, such as I cut, I swallowed, I could, I have not, etc. She writes whole sentences, as opposed to something like “salting pieces in the dusk, not mealy flesh, not bitter, not like last year, even when swallowing…” Several other poems in her collection read like this, such as “Transcendentalism” when she writes, “The professor stabbed his chest…we would have…I felt bad…There was…” (42).
Even though many of Perillo’s poems are written like this, what separates her poems from prose is her use of strong imagery and diction. As I mentioned, she demonstrates her biological knowledge in this collection and uses it to her advantage when describing imagery. For example, in “In Vitro/In Vivo” she writes how the “frog was not dead/but its brain had been pithed, which is what happens/when you stick a probe into the skull and wiggle…the frog’s blood cells/[jerked] through the narrow capillaries” (21). Part of how Perillo introduces her biological knowledge is through the setting at the first-aid training session. This enables her to use biological diction in such a way that it matches the tone of the poem, as opposed to trying to slip it in a poem that takes place at a restaurant. As a result, the speaker of the poem becomes an authority in the subject, making the imagery that much more powerful.
This authority allows the speaker to explain what pithing is, and as a result can build on that imagery as the poem goes on. For example, Perillo writes, “Here is the guy/who shot off his head, but wait: he’s still living,” an image that parallels the frog’s state. This parallel between the images acts as a metaphor—the man is the frog—which reinforces both images and, as a result, strengthens the poem.