R. L. Greenfield: R. I. P

La Danse des Muses by Giulio Romano

One of the hardest things about being a long time small press editor, as well as simply a person on this spinning ball in space, is the passing of those we know. 

Recently, I sent out an all points bulletin trying to get in touch with the poet R. L. Greenfield, whose work bounced back to me in the mails.  A number of people had leads for me, which I really appreciated.  In searching myself, I ran across a relatively recent blog post review of Bukowski's Love Is a Dog From Hell by R. L. Greenfield.  I left a comment there in hope of making a direct connection.  This morning I received notification of a reply comment:

Just learned RL Greenfield passed away late March. Was “Googling” to see if he’d published anything new recently, and stumbled upon the sad news.  Amy.

I've been unable to find an obit, but there you have it.  This is one of the poems I'd commented on and was in the batch that bounced back to me.   Let this serve, for the moment, as a note in his memory:

You Were Always On My Mind (for Miele)

willie nelson singing
you were always on my mind

after lunch at Wendy's on Friday
& all the cash registers of the world

lock up & go into hibernation
the customers stop chewing

& the waitresses are all frozen in their tracks
willie nelson owns this moment & I pause & listern

as The Muse puts her hands inside my chest
& begins the pounding of the dough

R. L. Greenfield

To the memory of a small press poet ...

plum tree--
under blossoms' shine
an evening prayer

Issa
translated by David G. Lanoue

best,
Don

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