Another Loss

Another old friend - and more - has left the planet Michael Tyzack, I have already missed you for a long time and now. . fuck, fuck and so on and I'm just too goddamn tired of loss to write another eulogy, to pass on memories (once, I saw you naked play the trumpet in a Soho loft, back when I thought the world was still kind) or even to shout or scream or cry. Much. Some. A little. This is a harsh season, this February. This turning gyre is not spinning where I wish it would go.