My dad phoned me on January 6th, 2013, to tell me my brother had died at Montreal General Hospital.
It was a messy ending: my mom, senile and delusional, either thought Richard just needed to “escape” the hospital in order to live, or that palliative care would bring about some kind of cure.
The hospital staff was eager to clear his bed, and repeatedly took him off medication in order that his failing liver would finish him off. I argued with the hospital that my mom — who was frequently in Montreal — should not be main decision maker because of her dementia.
They relented on that issue but didn’t listen to me anyway. Three times they took richard off antibiotics on a Friday night, then told my dad and me they could only reinstate antibiotics with permission from the attending doctor. When my dad and I asked them to contact the doctor, the staff said they couldn’t because it was the weekend.
Richard left behind no computer disks that I could find, countless unpaginated printouts all randomly thrown together, and old drawings on fraying paper.
Since then, I’ve been making videopoems based on his work. Ultimately, I’ll scan the printouts and assemble them into book volumes (I’ve done this with one volume already, entitled Happyland). His work isn’t for everyone. But he was a poet who genuinely found his voice before he died. That’s a kind of solace.
Below are two very early readings from his own chapbook Death Haiku. RIP. I still miss him so much it hurts.
Death Haiku statement:
https://youtu.be/WAJ6ZGR1a3g?si=GnlCrXPQBSUoZ0Ab
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