From realpoetik at scn9.scn.org Fri Mar 13 19:53:06 2009 From: realpoetik at scn9.scn.org (RealPoetik Magazine) Date: Fri, 13 Mar 2009 22:53:06 -0400 Subject: [Realpoetik] To friends of Sal Salasin Message-ID: <86a3fe410903131953n66e2cd12r46906cd2f5492cca@mail.gmail.com> Dear readers of RealPoetik, Most of you probably know that Sal Salasin is the founding editor of RP. Today I received a very sad message from Elisa Salasin, Sal's niece. She writes that Sal is very ill, with advanced lung cancer, and may only have anywhere from a few days to a few weeks left. The indomitable Sal never let on about the extent of his illness. He's now in a nursing facility in Berkeley, CA. I invite you all to send letters and poems for him to Elisa at elisasalasin at gmail.com. She will print them out and share them with Sal, who is still very much of keen mind. Sal likes his language funny and vernacular, so consider this RP's last contest: to make Sal crack up and know that he's loved. Your interim editor, Ana -- RealPoetik realpoetik.blogspot.com -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: From realpoetik at scn9.scn.org Fri Mar 20 09:38:33 2009 From: realpoetik at scn9.scn.org (RealPoetik Magazine) Date: Fri, 20 Mar 2009 12:38:33 -0400 Subject: [Realpoetik] RIP Sal Salasin Message-ID: <86a3fe410903200938m69ed1cfcid42102ac96f50eae@mail.gmail.com> Dear readers of RP, friends, acquaintances and e-friends of Sal, below is a message from Sal's niece Elisa. Sal has left with Shakespeare and now unionizes the beyond. Hats off to him. Next week we will resume or regular programming; today, we give the last word to Sal. Visit http://realpoetikblog.blogspot.com/ to leave notes for the family. Your interim editor, Ana Dear Friends of Sal Salasin, I'm writing to let you all know that my uncle Robert, otherwise known as Sal and Roberto and Uncle Bob, passed away this evening. He was the fighting spirit that you all knew and loved until close to the end, not willing to give in to death unless there were good writers involved. It was Shakespeare that carried him over. At one point in the afternoon Sal asked when Shakespeare would be arriving. I held his hand and said that Shakespeare was on his way. He asked if Shakespeare would be taking him upstairs. I said that yes, Shakespeare was coming to take him upstairs, and once there they’d meet up with Neruda and Cervantes and Lorca, and they’d talk about poetry together. I told him there were lots of un-unionized workers that needed to be organized, and lots of poets waiting for him in heaven, and that Shakespeare would be arriving very soon to guide him there. Sal began repeating, “Shakespeare is coming... Shakespeare is coming. He’s coming soon...” His body untensed, and he fell into a quiet sleep. I sat with him for awhile, holding my hand over his heart, whispering that Shakespeare would be there before too long, that we all love him, but that he was free to go. It was the most peaceful sleep I’d seen in days, so I left him in the care of his continuous-care nurse, an incredibly gentle & perceptive Pakistani man named Erfan. Before I returned Sal’s spirit was gone. He had woken up briefly, and Erfan held him as his took his last breaths. Shakespeare arrived to escort him upstairs. Sal requested that his ashes be scattered off of the Staten Island Ferry. I will be in touch when arrangements are made for this to happen. However, in the mean time please know that I read each and every one of the messages and poems that were sent to him by all of you. Even in his final days they never failed to make him smile, and he was truly amazed every time I'd bring in a new pile. I believe they brought a measure of completion to his life that might not otherwise have been possible. Thank you. With love, Elisa Salasin (and the rest of our family) elisasalasin at gmail.com 443-562-1656 --- And am pleased to inhabit the earth with this species. Goodbye and God bless you all. More of the evil work of Denise and her evil twin Denise, bleeding through my dreams. Man is the only animal that builds jails. He can also eat peanuts and chew tobacco. Let's go back to the phones where we'll discuss idempotent transactions in just a moment. Well, yes, I'm sorry I did the best I could which was obviously inadequate. Fate and too many painkillers. Recently I had the pleasure of driving alone in an American car on American roads listening to American radio from Perth Amboy to Seattle. And this had its rewards although it didn't do the planet any good. And if it makes you feel any better, I didn't use my tongue. I'm also extremely good at removing the lint after each use and believe I should get some credit for that. "By the light of a thousand suns, I am become death." I'd sympathize but all in all, I'd rather talk about me. Just get my butt back safe from the K-Mart and I'm yours forever. Sal Salasin, July 24, 1995 -- RealPoetik realpoetik.blogspot.com -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: