Thursday, March 25th, 2010...6:55 pm
dave roskos | found myself…
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Found myself in Los Lunas a few years back, outside Albuquerque, not far from Santa Fe. Spent a wonderful afternoon at Kell Robertson’s place in the high desert. Ken Greenley, Matt Borkowski, and Michael Darrah came along. It was one of those rare magical afternoons that only happen a few times in a lifetime. at one point a hummingbird fluttered a few inches in front of my face & looked into my eyes. magic.
Couple days later Michael & I visited Mark Weber in Albuquerque. Mark & I had been penpals since the 1980s but had never met one another in person. To my surprise, Todd Moore was in the house. Todd & I had corresponded a little bit & he had been in a few issues of Big Hammer. Another magical afternoon ensued. For all of the violence in Todd’s poetry, the man that I met that afternoon was a kind, generous, gentle soul, a Listener; a stand-up guy. (And I got to ask him if he was a Jim Thompson fan. Sure enough, he was.)
After our meeting we continued our sporadic correspondance & worked on a book together. He was very generous. The news of his death felt like punch in the stomach. It knocked the wind out of me. We have lost a good friend & one of our most hard working poets & advocates.
–Dave Roskos | march 23, 2010