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I am off in a second to have dinner, and then go for a sound check, and then read my new poem at Bird Club. For the sake of the few people who may read this before going, I am putting the new poem behind cut tags; Bird commissioned me to write something about the link between being an sf fan and being part of the broad queer community, a subject I might never otherwise have written about.

Make 'em laugh, make 'em cry - you know my methods )

And that's the first poem in which I have begun to address Abigail's decline and death, I suppose. Just as this was the year of the Desire poems, I suspect that 2010 will be the year of the Death Suite, a project to which I am drawn but freaked by.
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