Hey folks. I'm sorry to say I have a small spot on my lung again, so I have to fight cancer for the fourth time. To call it a little disappointing and a little exhausting is something of an understatement. I have to get radiation again. And radiation isn't cheap, even when you have insurance. So if you're feeling both ostentatiously generous and straight-up Gilded Age-y, don't let me tell you that you shouldn't help out. Many of you were very kind to help out during my first, I mean second, I mean third cancers but that money is long gone now. The good news, I suppose, is that it will come to an end one way or another. But I think for now it's worth fighting.

During my first two years of cancer, I wrote three long poems (280, 280, and 480-lines). Those three poems will be available in book form soon under the title "Disease days: three long poems." But seriously, poetry can punch itself in the face and drop dead if it thinks I've got the equivalent of seven and a half more Prufrocks in me.