Timothy Michalik
We watched the bee die
in the shade
and on the sidewalk sun cut through
in the usual ways. A tiny garden in a box
a kid went WHACK to. Now it's raining
the city's busy uninventing taxis
I mean that's New York, I mean.
Walking home I thought about saying
"when a person dies..."
but somebody already did. 
Just a few days ago.
Personally it's more interesting
to live. When I start to feel like
"everything" and "nothing"
I would like to transport myself
to a great white room
and think O good I can be happy again.
Turn on the light look in the mirror
bees pour out of the faucet.
That's not supposed to happen.
On the street w/ Brie she asks
about our old life I say You know
I find that really sad. Just days ago
G texted me Making sure u have a hotel
for my wedding?? I'm sorry no
I won't be coming and there
the sun beams out of the sky.
It transmits these little haiku. Like stay / 
inside a lot / rain might come.
That wasn't one of them.
But it felt that way and how about
when Schuyler says "The smell of snow ...
I am not suicidal"
I think maybe he is. Was.
Wake up there's no more sun
White ceiling / my favorite cloud.
from the journal AFTERNOON VISITOR
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This poem is in memory of Don Crescendo. 

Timothy Michalik on "All the Day Long"
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