Dean Young, 1955-2022

Dean Young

First he was my teacher, then my friend. The poet, Dean Young, passed away Tuesday at 67 from Covid. As a recipient of a heart transplant a few years ago, he was always at high risk for all kinds of conditions.

You can find some of his work here that he let me publish through my small press:

Beloved Infidel — https://t.co/lfpDIjtbCA

The Foggist — https://t.co/ZsjCUgEfqF

Elegy for the Last Male Northern White Rhino — https://t.co/61Ewnbyu23

I also write this in his memory:

Elegy

--For Dean Young, 1955-2022

He wrote that it was necessary to "live to love"

but I wanted him to love to live

with his loaner heart

borrowed from a motorcycle rider who crashed,

wanted him to ignore the annoying crinkle

caused by all of us who loved him

stepping on the cat toys he left lying around.

I know now we disturbed his wa

demanding the little bit of air

he was trying to hold onto for himself.

Success is always measured

in the bits of pottery clay

you manage to clean up every afternoon,

but the last time I talked to him

I had the sense he was breaking

more pots than he was making,

floor strewn with shards and fragments

of all the grand vessels he imagined

that never cohered.

All the years of trying

to get across the finish line.

He has gone into the burning building.

He isn't coming out

for the spirits of the dead

have finally had their way.

Oh great sunflower of the afterlife,

watch over him, please.

Grant him the typewriter

with the broken o

so that when the messages

arrive from the underworlds

we'll know it's him sending them

and we will be glad.

In honor of Dean Young. #DeanYoung #poetry #poetrylovers pic.twitter.com/lbNir2YAq4

— Ian Wilson (@IanRWilsonX) August 25, 2022