The Author writes: OUR SON Max died around 11 PM Feb. 28, 2018, abruptly it seemed, but not unexpectedly, in Kindred Hospital, San Leandro CA. After all, his had been an unusual and prolonged life, an existence that carried him to the reefs of consciousness back and forth many times. Born on Mar 9, 1968 in Nashville TN, he soon moved to Brooklyn NY where he spent the first ten years of his life with all the normal experiences and adventures of any boy of his era. He was basically happy and good natured. A few months after his 10th birthday Max became mysteriously and seriously ill, with symptoms that culminated in his being hospitalized and within a week he was in a coma and underwent several craneotomies. It turned out he had contracted a herpes encephalitis. For the next 40 years his was an epic of numerous ups and down, episodes of severe setbacks, but adventures of limited recovery as well, on horseback, in swimming pools, on a three wheeled bike, and with his electric synthesizer/piano which he loved playing above all. He remained at home, with the exception of numerous hospitalizations some quite lengthy, with us, his parents all this time. Until the end. Max's life was a mystery, a tragedy and a joy. Among the enigmas Max left behind was the word HOIL, a syllable he used to write on crayon drawings he made when he was a child around 5 or 6 years old. While we may never know what he meant by HOIL, these poems are an attempt to elucidate Max's death, as well as his life, giving some meaning it is hoped to the cosmic randomness that seemed to characterize his existence, HOIL It must be noted that while the poems here represent a concentration of feeling derived from a certain cosmic event, this is not a complete collection, as I continue and will keep on writing poems about Max, in life and death. For as long as I live the Universe will seem inconceivable without Max. HOIL Candidus insuetum miratur limen Olympisub pedibusque videt nubes et sidera Daphnis Virgil, Ecloga V, 56-57
