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« Frank O'Hara and Lady Day, Fifty Years On: A Poem and a Quiz | Main | Wise Latina [by Emma Trelles] »

July 17, 2009


I hope, when I die, a calico cat will snooze on my grave sometimes.

I liked reading these cemetery posts. You visited a lot of the same graves I did when I was there and it made me nostalgic for this beautiful place. I was suprised to hear about the metal fence around Morrison's tomb - not there ten years ago. But his bust was missing then. Tell me, did they ever put it back in its place?

That's an extraordinary Holocaust memorial. Do you know what year they put it up? Jim Morrison died when I was living in Paris -- I remember the ruckus. He and Hendrix and Janis Joplin and Mama Cass all in the same brief period, if memory serves. I remember the Montparnasse cemetery, too. . .More Paris, please, EG. Stacey and I are supposed to fly there in October 2010 and we can't wait.

The French clearly look after their own. Gertrude Stein, an honorary Parisienne, also has a lovely gravesite, with a collection of gray granite pebbles in front of her simple stone.

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That Ship Has Sailed
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"Lively and affectionate" Publishers Weekly


I left it
on when I
left the house
for the pleasure
of coming back
ten hours later
to the greatness
of Teddy Wilson
"After You've Gone"
on the piano
in the corner
of the bedroom
as I enter
in the dark

from New and Selected Poems by David Lehman


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