I was going to write a piece about my attempts to talk to people in New York in 1987, but I´m sick in a mixture of asthma, allergy and very strong Granchild-germs.
But I want to leave you with some words, that have been on my mind lately.
I think it was in 2014, that my friend, the late Michael Crisp, took to me the National Aids Memorial Grove in San Francisco, where names of the dead are engraved in circles.
He showed me a poem by Thom Gunn (1929 -2004), that is also engraved in the monument:
Walker within this circle pause
Although they all died of one cause
Remember how their lives were dense
With fine compacted difference