Olympia red (Olympia portable typewriter, no. 156712): photo by Georg Sommeregger, 8 December 2010
A string of bad luck hit you you had a stroke lost your job when the college collapsed Angelica broke her hip, my God we’re old people now not young poets leaving New York to head West the planet re-jiggering as we head to our grand not-so-grand exits. My first friend when we entered the fray no one knows what’s going to happen to anybody Kerouac told us closing his own book, the red letters of his concentration A milder more domesticated lot we could still spot the not-quite-all-there leading to calamitous reprisals in the papers. Who cares? With beautiful wives we’d lead beautiful lives— and so we did, for a while taking our exemplars further into domesticity, our contribution maybe. If you don’t get your due, the ledger fills up anyway; we knew that too from Allen and Jack.
Aram Saroyan: photo by Beyond Baroque Literary Center, 2 November 2007