This is also too sad for words. The San Francisco triumverate of Blaser, Duncan and Spicer represent a sort of ideal for me, and now the last survivng member - indeed the last surviving member of the New American Poetry group - is gone. Reading Blaser's Robert Duncan poem nearly made me weep in Starbucks this morning. No more Image-Nations for us, just wreckage. The Truth is Laughter, but there's little to laugh about now.
3 comments:
it looks like your giving the obituaries a run for their money these days buddy. sad news all around...
'cept for the GOD entry that is... :)
add the deaths Henri Meschonic and Bea Arthur and there seems little reason to get out of bed most days. I always get morbid around my bdays.
ah yes... now i understand
and damn i totally spaced on your b-day!!!!
happy belated my friend! let's have drinks to celebrate your existence when i'm back!
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