We (meaning a circle of friends) have just found out that Nicholas (see here, and here) passed away due to complications from AIDS. None of us heard he was that sick; we don’t know if his family had a funeral or not. I’m not in the best of states right now, and there’s some big raw wound opening up in me right now, which I’m not sure where it will go. He was 32.
Not much any of us can say, that will make you feel any less wretched, but you share your life with us so generously, the highs and lows, that I cannot not respond. I think ‘Homunculus’ was one, if not the one, of the first poems I read by you. In a sense then, I have known Nicholas. AIDS is everyone’s problem. I mourn for him; I grieve for you. You are a writer, Joseph. Follow the wound.
I could never say it better than Margo.
My condolences, Joseph.
When it’s out of nowhere, the suddenness itself knocks you dumb.
I’m so sorry. Please accept my condolences.
My sincerest condolences, Joseph. Losing someone is very difficult.
Pamela
I remember reading these pieces and being so moved by them. It was not just the incandescent poetry itself, but also how bravely you confronted your fear and horror about AIDS, this disease that has devoured so many in their prime and continues to decimate communities all over the world. I have just followed the links to read Homunculus and your musings about the stranger on the train again in celebration of Nicholas. I am so sorry to hear of the loss of your friend. Margo said it for all of us. Words fail. Know that my heart goes out to you.