We were slightly younger than the book world's low-rent luminaries,
All degreed, all hip as hell, with solid counter-culture ties, but they
Were welcoming to us, two largely self-taught wisenheimers. What
Salons we had with them in Mike's abandoned hospital! The liquor
Flowed. The talk was elevated. No one mentioned sports. They didn't
Last. They never do. Some got better-paying jobs, and others
Tended to their kids. As years went by, they started dying. One is
Blind, and Mike just told me that he's losing both his hearing
And his mind. I cherish those most splendid days, which took place

Fifty years ago and half a continent away.  In time, Mike won't

Remember them.  That seems so very sad.