Strange now to think of you, gone without corsets & eyes,
While I walk on the sunny pavement of Greenwich
Village.
downtown Manhattan, clear winter noon, and I’ve been up
all night, talking, talking, reading the Kaddish aloud
listening to Ray Charles blues shout blind on the phono-
graph
the rhythm the rhythm – and your memory in my head three
years after – And read Adonais’ last triumphant stanzas
aloud – wept, realizing how we suffer – Continue Reading…