Sunday, July 31, 2005
What I'm Reading, etc.In LA the air rises hot with the sun this time of year. I love it.
Since living in New Orleans, I have an appreciation for heat and an
aversion to cold, which meant I spent most of our time in San Francisco
just that much chilled. It's rarely too hot for me anymore. 1:22:51 PM | At City Lights Books in San Francisco, I spent all of my souvenir money on books they've published, including one I just finished, The Book of Jon, by poet Eleni Sikelianos. The Book of Jon is a post-modern biography/memoir of Sikelianos' relationship with her drug-addicted father who died in a run-down motel in New Mexico after three homeless years. It's a moving book, particularly the last couple of "chapters" (they are more like vignettes, musings, than actual chapters). Unfortunately, though, we don't learn much about Jon until we read his obituary at the end of the book, one that was clearly written mostly by Sikelianos. The bulk of the book is a demonstration of the frustrations and disconnectedness that comes from a life with a heroin addict, and is in some ways frustrating to read because of it is so disconnected. I found myself wishing she had broken down and written some straight-forward prose, to fill in the poetic, dreamy parts with something solid. I kept wondering what she really thought of him. But then she's a poet, and clearly a poet who sees her father as a series of images (and imaginations) that don't necessarily fit together at all. I've just started another City Lights imprint, Sarajevo Blues, by another poet, Semezdin Mehmedinovic. It's about Mehmedinovic's experiences during the horrific Bosnia-Hercegovina war. I'm looking forward to reading it. Luckily S has called me the past two days. It's been wonderful to talk to him. Our friend Fred is in the hospital battling a bloodstream infection after his third chemo session. It seems the sixth day after the treatment ends is the Danger day: each month something has happened, though this is the most serious. The drop in white blood cells requiring blood transfusions has become "normal", but the infection is something new. So far he has had three blood transfusions and he's been given round-the-clock antibiotics. The chemo kills off the body's ability to fight invaders. It leaves you incredibly vulnerable. As usual, though, Fred's spirits are good. But his wife. She is so worried, so upset over what Fred is going through. I understand how she feels: at once concerned with her own well-being, while simultaneously overwhelmed with worry for him, wishing she could do something, anything, to take on some of his hardship, to truly share it. It's so hard to see our loved ones suffer. I wish S were here with me. Of course he wishes he were here too. He misses Fred terribly. I know he would love to see him. I wish he were here to be with Fred too, but I also have selfish reasons. Even for just a moment, I want to sink into S, touch him, so I know he's still here. 
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Last update: 8/3/05; 12:29:55 AM .
