War and cancer of the blood
To each his death, slow or violent
And it is always the same
For those who have learned
To read in the shadows
And who, eyes closed,
Did not cease writing.
To die in this way is to live.

—Kateb Yacine, quoted in David Macey, Frantz Fanon, 399.

Up at 6.
Lost track of when I did things, but wrote a couple hours.
Went to MoMa - left about 10:30, deposited a check on the way. Subway neither mobbed nor deserted - if I hadn’t known what had happened the last year, I wouldn’t have been saying, “Where is everybody?”
Forgot the library book I was going to return across the street.
Spent about 90 min. In the museum - post-war drawing show, 1940s-1970s collection and the current stuff on 2nd floor. I liked a video of Hanna Wilke posing in front of/through Duchamp’s Large Glass, a projected film of Cecil Taylor rehearsing and being interviewed in Paris (year?), and Hock E Aye Vi Edgar Heap of Birds: Surviving Active Shooter Cluster.
Probably need to go back to see the black architecture show before it closes in a week.
Bought a couple of remaindered books in the store, inc. the Helen Molesworth Manny Farber catalog + 2 cheap notebooks.
None of the cafes in the museum were open. Got a half-sandwich and hot dog (the hot dog was better) at a food truck, + a cream soda, ate it outside; then got a coffee. Read two sections of Kovac. Wrote a couple pages in poetry notebook.
Took train back, listened to some Dry Cleaning and Leenachi (“Tiger Is Coming”). Not used to the activity; tired me out. Spent some time resting and responding to a ? about the form of a Taylor Swift song from J. Clover.
Read, somewhat later, 30 p. Fanon bio, and an Itala Svevo story. According to the bio note, he was taught English by James Joyce.
Lights out around 11.