Such a remarkable account, particularly meaningful to me as I lived in the upper Haight for 8 years, mere minutes away from all the locations that Antonio refers to. I also met McClure at a small party of writers near the end of his life. I told him that I owned a collection of his poetry but could not recall the title, only the colors of the front cover. All he said was, "I've written so many...". I felt so sheepish, but then a bit redeemed when I helped him up off the couch, as he was too weak to stand up by himself. I also saw him read a couple times in the '90s. He embodied the breath of the ineffable.
Such a remarkable account, particularly meaningful to me as I lived in the upper Haight for 8 years, mere minutes away from all the locations that Antonio refers to. I also met McClure at a small party of writers near the end of his life. I told him that I owned a collection of his poetry but could not recall the title, only the colors of the front cover. All he said was, "I've written so many...". I felt so sheepish, but then a bit redeemed when I helped him up off the couch, as he was too weak to stand up by himself. I also saw him read a couple times in the '90s. He embodied the breath of the ineffable.
Touching personal memories there, Ken. Thank you for sharing them.
I think I might remember a line from 'The Beard' which always stuck with me regarding borders: "I cannot travel without a passport!"