I can't remember ever being so lonely as I am tonight. Here is a very tiny excerpt from "The Later Letters of Charles Olson and Frances Boldereff"
"I don't know what my own future holds, and these have been desperate days - (you can't imagine, I shdn't think, what an impossible effort it is for a man like myself, finally compulsive, to live alone...& I am strained beyond endurance..."
(Letter of 9 January 1968)
