Favourites change a lot, but a stern contender based on its well worn pages in my library is my man Joe Bolton. Tremendous talent. His collection, Days of Summer Gone, is a must have if you can find it for a reasonable price. I once dropped it behind the radiator next to my toilet and actually took the radiator out to retrieve it, it's that damned good. Here's a good'n: The Light We Dance Through This is the afterlife. Her gin- tinged breath came like a cool injection in my ear. We were dancing after midnight in this place called 32nd Avenue, dancing over cigarette butts & against bodies not our own & through a light of such blue density it almost wasn’t light at all. But outside, there were stars, & though all around us the city was playing games with its deranged souls, we danced three times around the parking lot– a waltz, for chrissake, a fudgeing waltz. That was 1981, & each year there are fewer & fewer people I’ll admit as my acquaintances, & fewer still I’ll dance with, & it’s probably the case that, on those all-too-rare occasions, the light we dance through is the closest we’ll ever come to any sort of afterlife.