POEM
Fries, Kenny
POEM Kenny Fries . . . then the wasting begins and die disappearance a day at a time. — Mark Doty To the Poet Whose Lover Has Died of AIDS The night of vour reading I notice he has carved a place...
...If we are given hue only to have it taken away, what solace can anvone offer but your voice be present among the shifting chairs, the embarrassed noises of absence...
...When you first told me he was sick...
...when you tell me he wet himself and could not stav, I think how leaving causes so much commotion, how in school during roll call the teacher never knew how long to wait for the voice, present, before moving on to the next name in the order...
...huh are tottluomuix troin Ihaio,, u, w„ „ new honk of nnpmi...
...Remember A Memoir" and editor ot Shinny Bmk An Anthoi<,g\ of Writers \miIi Disabilities...
...Mark Doty To the Poet Whose Lover Has Died of AIDS The night of vour reading I notice he has carved a place for his wheelchair...
...is tnrtiu ommv trom the Advocado Puss...
...over a decade of loss, and I don't know what's left to say...
...Kenny Fries received the Gregory Ko/ovakos Award foi AIDS Writing /«» " Fhe Healing \oichooks" (Open Books i He is die authoi ot H>-./v...
...The wait is always too long...
...All those vears together...
...I could not ask if vou...
...were infected— I searched your poems for clues...
...Now he has died and I have gone back to read vour poems, needing your words to prove love does not disappear a day at a time...
...Then, only the space remains and nobody, not even those standing, eyeing what was his position, will take his place...
...The next dav...
...The tittering, the shifting in chairs, when it went on too long...
...But after the first poem, through the applause, the noise of moving out of his way...
Vol. 60 • March 1996 • No. 3
