A great thank you to everyone! I can even sense that those who did not respond were too full of emotion to do so: I more than most realize that sentiment sometimes acts as a crazy glue to the seat of the pants while an invisible bar rockets repeatedly through the left cheek and out the top of the skull in an explosion of the fuggy black-powder of lugubricity.

Be that as it may, Mr. Schwartz’s poem and other sentiments were printed on scraps of Chinese Hell Money and burnt in a steel brazier in the park (to the accompaniment of Beethoven’s 9the “Ode to Joy”), so that the smoke could wend its way to Braincap in Elysium.

While staring up through these clouded light receptors called my eyes, I believe I saw a flash of a piscine tail among the clouds signalling “all is well.”

Let us hope so,

Jesse