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It's odd & wonderful that my old friend is now an important and beloved public figure. I knew it was coming on—she's been famous for years—but recently there's been a burst of acclaim. No one has worked harder, no one deserves this more. Even the people I know who begrudge everyone everything—including what they don't even want—are happy for her.

The Poetry Project hosted a great night, homage to Eileen & her two recent books—the reprinted Chelsea Girls and a new and selected poems. As she said, it's great to have the memorial while the poet is still alive.

I was pleased to be one of the readers, along with (here's the whole list) Sam Ace, Jen Benka, Charles Bernstein, Stephen Boyer, Alexander Chee, Cathy de la Cruz, r. erica doyle, Megan Fernandes, Adam Fitzgerald (too late to read), Emily Gould, Patricia Spears Jones, erica kaufman, Porochista Khakpour, Nate Lippens, Ben Lerner, Trace Peterson, Ariana Reines, Jill Soloway, Stacy Szymaszek, Anne Waldman, Joe Westmoreland, and Simone White.

In the spirit of Eileen's adventurousness, I read a poem of hers that I translated into Norwegian:


I had already begun
being a woman who lived
mostly alone, going huh
and piping, shuffling
through the rest
of her time. I contain
a running kid, a
green elf. I am
entirely alone. I desire
a certain sports car,
a drippy night. Making hairpin turns
in rome your
face beams
up like a million
jiggling suns.
Do you get
it? Go.
what you
know is
true. I am so
long gone
down my


Jeg hadde allerede begynt
å være kvinne som levde
meste alene, går huh
og piper, beveger sakte
gjennom resten
av tiden hennes. Jeg inneholde
en løpende barn,
en grønn alv. Jeg er
helhet alene. Jeg ønsker meg
en viss sportsbil
en dryppende natt. Kjører hårnålssvinger
i roma din
ansikt stråler
opp som en millioner
slingrings soler.

forstår du
det? Gå.
hva du
vet er
sant. Jeg er så
lenge borte
ned min
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