blood sucker 

blood sucker

gave blood yesterday. always hesitate and turn them down two or three times before i get up the nerve. always dread it, and worry neurotically before and after-- it'll be bad, they'll reject it, i'll faint. and always the staffers are uniformly calm and friendly and welcoming.

i give blood because of ansel, my 18 year old poet buddy who gets a big transfusion of blood product every month, and who wouldn't be here otherwise. i know my blood doesn't end up in that poet's veins-- i doubt it anyway, since he's 6000some miles away-- but some other poet might like it. and i'm a sucker for poets.

speaking of which i have uncovered a lovely dead turk-- orhan veli-- whilst searching for a new poet game poem. which led to discovery of some lively living american geniuses who are translating him and putting him to music, as he well deserves. i like our tiny world. we are a tribe of lost folks speaking some weird language, and when we run into each other and can speak in our native tongue,

it's one long happy sigh.