I do not know Adrienne Rich

 I don’t know what is the last book that Adrienne Rich wrote and I wonder if she died because she stopped writing books? To this time I still haven’t checked if she died in her own hands or what. Low-grade depression, she calls it. In the forest without trees, in the forest of cables and steels, quoting john haines. To outlive one’s political uses. She could have not possibly begun doing community organizing. Like Wilhelmina Orosco. Distributing pamphlets at 50. Like me. Selling a twenty-five pesos tabloid to people who only tolerate you because you have human rights and not because you are literary they are not.  If only they start buying because they read, that should be halfway to victory.

 Books books books. Maybe I will never have the time to reread them Maybe I do not need to read them. I just feel sorry Mherz might never get to read Tolkien. He will read it, said he, the blasphemer. If he will read a bit of Bob Dylan and some of Bono, maybe Cobain, I would be happy enough. 

Blast of loser taking nothing.