leah's death was so shocking because it was, for me, completely unexpected. we die, we all will die, but each person i care about i want around for, and i know this sounds rather selfish, as long as i live no matter what their age. as for death, i'm not frightened of it, mine or anybody else. it is a negation, a non-experience. what i find frightening is the process of dying, not being dead, but moving inexorably toward death. and also that which we feel in the phrase of donne a presence in absence when someone we know and love passes on. which can ache so badly.

well, anyway. in that knowledge life is continously renewed. i learned from poet john tyson that he will soon be a grandfather. he wrote me yesterday that he told his son noah -- who will soon be a father -- 'how can we expect the world to get better if we're not filling it with our love and our babies, a revolution'

perhaps there's a chance after all. children, babies, mothers, fathers, sons and daughters and grandparents, all. my melancholy brightens in this hope and fuck all timidity and ironic posing when i say that yes, it is love and babies, a revolution. there might be a chance after all.

so here is a poem john sent me written in a fit of joy.

in the big box of longing
i'm plywood, hunk of carpet
logic to yr american. yr revolution.
don't care if it's wealth or poverty, sit or stood
the talk will be of snow maybe taxes, who makes a good shoe.
i shove the lukewarm burger king whopper in my face
devour in 4 bites & forget to breathe for this moment
the moment the moment of divinity
i’m a grandfather.

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hey. has everybody switched over to the new blogger? any problems. i'm using the old blogger as i type and i see that the tool bar for editing and hyperlinks is gone. what the motherfuck.