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53 I’d recently learned that my first book, Practice, Restraint, would come out in October.

May 3 ’05

Simso, Simso, Simso—

Lissen, kid, I truly dislike “lunch,” part of the total reclusiveness I’ve fallen into in my later years.54 I remember Willie Gaddis telling me the same thing, one of the last times I saw him (though I probably didn’t understand it yet). So whadaya say to this instead? Why don’t you guys stop here at my apartment for an hour or so, in the late morning — say 11 a.m.? That way, you get the whole stretch before your later gig in which to do something far more interesting than watching a grumpy old man dribble egg yolk into his beard (I still have the beard). Eleven o’clock, Sat., May 21.

Done? Done.

But lissen, do, do, do call me earlier — say 9:30 or so, to double-check, just in case. And keep in mind the major sacrifice I’m making — I’ll actually have to make a pass at cleaning this place!

Until—

David

54 I was going to be in New York again, for another reading, and had asked him to meet for lunch. Again.

May 22 ’05

Dear Simso—

I’m glad I finally saw you. I am.

Next time I will try to be civilized enough to have lunch, too. And not to spend half our time bitching about all of my penny-ante maladies.

Were I a dozen or fifteen years younger — yeah, say fifteen, so I’d only be 62—I never would have let you go wandering off alone that way either. I did think to check out that restaurant a while later, to make sure you weren’t sort of semi-stranded there — after also having paused to discover that that Bowery poetry place55 was listed in the phone book as well.

I hope the reading was what you wanted.

Meanwhile I keep crossing over to smell the lilacs. I have a vague feeling my woman brings in some in Wittgenstein’s Mistress, but can’t be sure56—and haven’t opened it in forever. They are now on that small table next to where you were sitting, far more attractive there.

Stay well, both of you.

With love—

David

55 The Bowery Poetry Club, where I was reading later that afternoon.

56 “I have brought in lilacs, also.” (77)

May 30 ’05

Dear Simso—

As you know, I read no fiction at all any longer. But a book I sort of semi-seriously skimmed, because my editor asked me for a blurb, just now out, is The Method Actors, by Carl Shuker (Counterpoint, paper) — all about people like you in Japan.57 Remembered it only after you were gone. Should carry you back, I’d think.

Also, what arrived last week but a check I’d forgotten about — an advance on a Japanese edition of Wittgenstein’s Mistress. (Don’t know when scheduled.)

Lilacs all gone.

With love—

David

57 I’d told him, during our visit, that I’d lived in Japan for three years after college.

June 9 ’05

Simsy — or rather, Simsy-san—

I don’t recall ever having seen a Japanese book but for some reason I’d wager that my title will be: Wittgenstein’s Mistress.58

Why do I think that?

Meantime, if you read that Carl Shuker book, The Method Actors, (and who knows, you may be a character in it), do let me know what you think. It will please my editor. And, hell, since they publish W.S. Merwin, Gary Snyder, etc., can’t hurt you either, maybe, one day, once I pass it on.

Oh, I forgot. The guy who spoke of “those wonderful folk who brought you Pearl Harbor,”59 was Jerry Della Femmina60 (or however it’s spelled).

Thine—

David

58 I’d asked him if he thought there’d be a different title for the Japanese version.

59 This was a line he’d quoted to me during our visit, when I’d mentioned my experience in Japan.

60 Jerry Della Femina, an advertising executive and restaurateur who wrote a bestselling book in 1970 called, From Those Wonderful Folks Who Gave You Pearl Harbor: Front-Line Dispatches from the Advertising War.

June 11 ’05

Dear Simso—

I never did mention that poem.61 The word “stupid” at the end didn’t work for me.62 I tried to think of substitutes, planning to ask you if one of them might fit the translation — that is, if I found one I liked — but got nowhere. But I thank you anyhow. And no, I didn’t know it. I know nothing of that literature.

Thine—

David

61 I’d included a Robert Hass translation of Kobayashi Issa’s death poem in a previous letter to David: “A bath when you’re born, / a bath when you die, / how stupid.”

62 I happen to love that “stupid” at the end, and told him so in my next letter.

June 23 ’05

Lissen, Simser—

What is this wiseguy stuff? If I tell you a poem doesn’t work, it doesn’t work. Behave yourself.

And what’s with Francoise Palleau mentioning that you were here?63 What am I gonna have to do, demand copies of everybody’s e-mail?

Tell Corey, every time you disagree — no question he’s right!

Be good. With love—

David

63 Francoise and I had gotten in touch by e-mail.

July 19 ’05

Dear Wisconsin—

Actually there are more than two or three typos in that interview,64 plus some mis-transcriptions, plus some screw-ups where they cut stuff; but since I do not believe in the web, the hell with it. But aren’t you sweet for looking out for me!

Am I supposed to know what PRACTICE [comma] RESTRAINT is?65 And why isn’t there a copy here, stacked between Shakespeare and Dante? Or Homer?

The Danes are great people.66 When the Nazis in WWII arrived and said all Jews must wear the yellow star, the king himself appeared wearing one.

And then of course there’s Hamlet.

(Though of course he’s an Elizabethan handover.)

Thine—

David

64 I’m not sure what interview he’s referring to here, but it must have been an online one I’d found, which becomes clear by the end of the sentence.

65 It was the title of my first book, due out in October of that year.

66 I must have mentioned my brother-in-law, who lives in Denmark with his wife, a Dane.

Aug 12 ’05

Simsy, Simsy—

PRACTICE, RESTRAINT is to go between my Shakespeare and Spenser? What am I supposed to do with my Shelley? My Skelton? My Gary Snyder? My Shirley? My Sidney? My Sitwell? My Simic? My Southwell? My Spender? My Karl Shapiro? My Smart? My Snodgrass? My Simpson? My Stevie Smith?

What kind of poet can’t even alphabetize?

For shame.

Oct 19 ’05

Dear Simso—

It occurred to me later last night that I’d not said congratulations on the book.67 I’ve been at it so long that I take them for granted, but I’m sure its existence gave you a thrill — and I couldn’t be more pleased for you. Mazel tov.

I also appreciate the inscription — and the dedication on “Bank Four.” I promise I’ll read it and read it and read it — until I at least begin to understand it.