For Cole
Vincent Katz
Word count: 387
Paragraphs: 8
I met Cole on May 25, 2024, when we read together at the series curated by Evelyn Reilly and Michael Gottlieb at Familiar Trees in Great Barrington, Massachusetts. Sadly, that unique and life-affirming bookstore is no longer. Cole and I were to read in the adjoining exhibition space, RA Gallery. Arriving at the bookstore/gallery, I met Cole, who told me she would like to respond to my reading. After I read, Cole greeted all in attendance, many by name, then said she would like to begin by reading from Ralph Waldo Emerson’s “The Method of Nature.” It felt explicitly directed toward me and embraced my work in a way I hadn’t experienced before. Partly, we were both translators. There was a shared sense of dedication to another writer’s writing. After the reading, we went to eat in a nearby Japanese restaurant with James Sherry, Trace Peterson, and Michael. The conversation was nice, and I told Cole I’d like to stay in touch. I made a point of calling her not long after, and we had a great, rambling, one-hour phone call, mostly about poetry, and mostly about how we wrote poems. I’m so glad I had that conversation. On November 8 of the same year, Cole and Iris Cushing booked me to read at Pete’s Candy Store with Nada Gordon and James. Again, I felt seen and heard in Cole’s introduction. Though I didn’t know her long, it felt like we connected. I miss that a lot. I wish we’d had the chance for more conversations and encounters. “A Life Worth Living” is one of the poems I read at Pete’s that November night.
A Life Worth Living
I never had a chance to read that book: am I dead?
Can the dead remember the dead?
Sun beats down on the paper
The sweater, the jacket, shadows cross the road
Days that change their weather like clothes
How do you define that blue seen through trees?
The dog is your loyal companion on the sunny shadow-crossed road
Those are good honest bugs
We have to live down the other side now
Your tea was beginning to suffer the opposite of meltdown
I guess you fit under romance
Then we all got in bed and watched a basketball game
That seems a fair price he's got my car key
Dormant fields peppered by geese
Vincent Katz is the author of the poetry collections Broadway for Paul, Southness, Swimming Home, and the book of translations, The Complete Elegies of Sextus Propertius. He is the editor of Black Mountain College: Experiment In Art. His writing on contemporary art and poetry has appeared in Art in America, the Brooklyn Rail, and The Poetry Project Newsletter. He lives in New York City.
