I’ll Be Seeing You – In Memory of Kit –

At Harvey Milk Plaza

My best friend Kit was a bit of a twit before he got sick, but
he was brilliant and passionate about gay liberation.
Our friendship was based on mutual geekiness.

Kit tinkered with a Mac or a Tandy while I wrote poetry and
listened to Pattie Smith through my headphones.

It was the third year of the AIDS epidemic.

We sat over coffee at the Cafe Flore on a bright
Mediterranean day in San Francisco.

Kit opened his backpack and pulled out a small computer.

It looked like a large calculator.

Kit said that HIV had not infected all gay men.

He suspected that HIV was sexually transmitted, but at that
time no one was certain.

We both knew many men who had died and even more who were sick.

Kit wanted to know what they had in common.

He questioned a small sampling of men and now he questioned me.

I.V. Drugs?

I hate needles.

Acid?

I hate acid.

Poppers ?

They smell like dirty feet.

Alcohol?

I don’t drink.

Weed?

Yes, please.

Then Kit asked me about sex.

Most of it’s icky, I replied.

Kit turned the computer around and showed me a bell curve.

It peaked in the late 1980s and declined in the 1990’s.

Kit said that what looked like new infections were actually
old ones that had advanced to end stage AIDS.

He explained that the virus had already infected most of the men in our age group who were going to die and that as they died the cases in our age group would drop.

Kit said that I would live and he would die.

Two years later Kit was diagnosed with AIDS and two years after that he died.

Kit took his own life when AIDS took his eyesight.

He had survived three bouts of Pneumocystis.

His skin was covered with Kaposi’s lesions and the lesions invaded his internal organs.

The last time I saw Kit I took his hand and told him that I was
going to miss him.

He replied that he loved me so much he’d haunt me.

We laughed together one last time and said goodbye.

Kit had introduced me to Billie Holiday.

He said that she sang from her soul.

This song is for Kit:

Billie Holiday


https://robertmgoldstein.files.wordpress.com/2015/05/04-ill-be-seeing-you.mp3

Billie Holiday – I’ll Be Seeing You
Community Audio

 

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The Bus Trip: The Delegates

The Delegate
The Delegate from the U.S,

12/30 – New Orleans

Miguel left without saying goodbye and three new people
moved into the dorm.

Lar is 24 and from what we used to call East Germany.

He took the bunk above mine.

Peter comes from what we used to call West Germany.

He took the lower bunk across the room.

Rob is 25 and comes from Liverpool.

He bunked above Peter.

Rob called us The Delegates

“The bombing shall begin at Noon!” He said officiously

Lar fired a pencil in response. He was the delegate from Germany.

I was the American delegate; my job was to pretend I cared.

Everyone fired pencils when Rob insisted he’d never heard music by the Beatles.

We declared a truce and took a taxi to the Club Brazil on Chartres St.
 

Snake-
I know how ya’all love that dead meat!

The band was named Snake and the music was fierce.

The lead singer dressed like Billie Holiday and sang like Janis Joplin.

She plucked a paper magnolia from her thick black hair and tossed
it to the crowd.

The crowd was ecstatic.

“Are you ready for some Snake” she laughed.

“Yes!” roared the crowd.

Someone passed her a bottle of whisky and she drank.

“Are you ready for ME?”

“YES!”

The band struck up and we danced.

Chartres Street
Chartres Street

Snake rocked for almost an hour.

Then the lead singer raised her hands the music stopped.

Someone gave her a lace hand fan; she took it and languidly fanned herself.

Her voice was smooth and seductive.

“Any Catholics out there?” she asked.

“YEEESS!” sang the crowd.

She gasped, batted her eyes, and fanned herself.

“I know how ya’all love that dead meat!”

“YEEESS!” Almost everyone laughed.

Lar gave her a bottle of Champagne.

She took a swig and sprayed the crowd.

“How ’bout some live meat?”

She took another swig of Champagne.

“Wanna little live meat?”

“YEEEEEEEESSS!”

The Delegates were drenched in Champagne at the foot of the stage.

“I love you!” shouted Rob

“WE LOVE YOU!” shouted the crowd.

Crash of drums!

And we danced.

RG 2015-2016

 

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