So my friend Brady just came over for dinner and told me that he’s leaving on Sunday. My spare set of keys is back in my hands, lying on my coffee table on a new/old tacky/cool keychain. I gave him one of my cameras and a Thai dinner. He gave me a wine rack, a bottle of wonderful Zin and his most excellent company. He might come back. He might not. Him leaving has made me realize, among other things, what a piss-poor job I’ve done keeping in touch with my friends – those who live here and those who don’t. Made me think about the people I love and what they truly mean to me. So, Brady, this one’s for you. I’ll miss you.
you shall above all things be glad and young
For if you’re young,whatever life you wear
it will become you;and if you are glad
whatever’s living will yourself become.
Girlboys may nothing more than boygirls need:
i can entirely her only love
whose any mystery makes every man’s
flesh put space on;and his mind take off time
that you should ever think,may god forbid
and (in his mercy) your true lover spare:
for that way knowledge lies,the foetal grave
called progress,and negation’s dead undoom.
I’d rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
Sing, my friend. Sing.