So, this is a long weekend. Skip's pain is worst at night, making it hard for him to sleep, so he's keeping vampire hours. Napping during the day. I've been working on a tenure report and still reading Eileen Myles. I've gotten to the Heaven part of the Inferno-- where the poet comes out. I love the idea of sexuality linked to paradise and enlightenment-- but it's a hard section to read right now.
Talked to Ellie for the first time since her own husband had a health crisis, about this time last year. I remember finding a book of poems in Seattle-- Angina-- written by a German poet with Michael's name, and sending it to her along with chocolate. Many phone calls; then just e-mail, postcards, funny notes, brief touch-ins until today. Michael is fine now and it was good to laugh with her. Gallows humor shared with an ardent Buddhist.
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