I still have ashes in my mouth (heart,eyes) from the mid-afternoon call dec 27th 2018. I’m in PDX. Mindy calls me from the Philly Coroners office. This is where they have taken her son Nick. I didn’t know she was calling from there,obviously. But now that I know that’s the picture I conjure when I think of this which is often. What did I know ? I Knew she went up to Philly to see if she could find him. Find Nick. And I guess she did. When I started reading about the Opioid epidemic @2004 it was as a disconcerted observer of the “Current Affairs” “stack of New Yorkers on the bedside” variety. Accustomed to the genial warnings of doom that emanated from my literary grazings. Like someone accustomed to flood warnings coming it nothing.

suddenly, in seconds it seemed, the water was lapping at the back stair. Since Nick there have so many many many others. I remember how it’s like AIDS when it flooding the lower east side - all us writers and creatives living there cheap frenetically - then, all this dying. There was a fair amount of heroin then too but we didn’t have specific feelings about that. It just was part of the general vibe of decay we felt so present to, coming out in different ways among us. Some better. Some worse. We green. the first volunteers to the newest war.

I loved this piece so much because there have been a lot of hopeless tears cried over this and since I’ve heard them live and raw I can report even if you are not directly involved it guts you forever. This problem needs hope and this seems promising to incredible. Even if it’s half as good as the claims here that’s stunning. I love your writing