10 MAR 07
SOXY
:
(M to JB)
hey Chief. We're really sorry to hear. "Probably for the best" -- yeah, thinking of him winding up in a nursing home, that would've been terrible.
You said at Thanksgiving people would be dying now. Let's put it off, ourselves. If we can.
Thanks for letting us know.
love,
m & k
:
(M to JB)
We keep coming back to Soxy, speaking of him through the day. How are you doing?
m
:
(JB to M)
I am okay. Dying seems to be a recurring issue (he not busy being born is busy dying). I have been slated for the eulogy on Monday. I am pretty tired and often wonder why I spend so much time working. I haven't figured out a wholesome substitute. I'm glad that things are moving briskly in the devil may care life of urban poetry. They say it's all in the delivery...
crow in snow,
J
:
(M to JB)
Good luck to you on Monday.
We fly out on Saturday for another round, the west coast tour full of social engagements as well as the readings. All this action could change a person. I was due for a change. Kate though, christ, she can't believe what she's doing, just keeps taking it further. (She's in the kitchen at the moment, Hendrix blaring from there, rooms away: "I don't need you no more in this world, I'll meet you in the next one and don't be late." Then K sings at full volume, "DON'T BE LATE!" Yeah, it's the old folks at home.)
What was the thing you used to say about Soxy? That he could "do his own time"? Have I got the line right? Kate wonders if you have Soxy's dates--do you know when he was born exactly? (His death date would be today, of course.) I think she felt she might say something about him on her blog--or who knows, something or other is going on in that interior of hers...
watch for the wholesome substitute,
m
. . . .
