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“Of course she’s dead: Tina was her name, of leukemia: so I heard— why else would I try sadly to make music of her unremarkable kindness? I am trying, I think, to forgive myself for something I don’t know what. But what I do know is that I love the moment when the poet says I am trying to do this or I am trying to do that.” — Ross Gay
Of course she’s dead: Tina was her name, of leukemia: so I heard—
why else would I try sadly to make music of her unremarkable kindness?
I am trying, I think, to forgive myself
for something I don’t know what.
But what I do know is that I love the moment when the poet says
I am trying to do this
or I am trying to do that.