Friday, January 12, 2018


I had a strange dream. I was seated at a bar. They did not serve the brand of Scotch I wanted and so I ordered a Glenlivet neat. Gote appeared. I held a black and white photograph of him that does not exist, for he is older in the photo than he had lived. He did not recognize himself in the photograph, nor did he recognize me, seated at my present age. He never sat for a drink. Sometimes, I wonder if he is truly dead or just hates me so much that he stays away. Happy birthday, love eternal.