—WE’RE ONLY WATCHING THE STARS

..Still dwelling on this one because it was such a ferocious love between two amazing people and talents:

Allison Joseph on Jon Tribble:

-Can we stop for a minute and appreciate the splendor of Jon Tribble's hair? One of the reasons I wanted to have him by my side at my college reunions was that man had so much hair--and the dudes who wouldn't deign to go out with me back in college days were now kings of the combover. Aw, Allison, thy name is petty--and I loved my true love's hair.

-I know that to a lot of people Jon and I didn't "look like a couple." Besides the racial and cultural differences, we didn't wear similar clothes or finish one another's sentences or do a lot of hand holding and PDA. But our love was fierce in its calm and continuous way. We rarely fought, held similar political views, and delighted in music, historical trivia, and movies. I will miss my "friend with extra benefits" so very much.

-I apologize if my incessant posting about grief and mourning and loss is triggering to folks. It's only going to get worse though. When I lost my mom, I went back to school that semester, only to drop out the following semester. In a way, that dropping out led me to Jon, because I had to go to summer school to get some credit. I chose to go to Indiana University in Bloomington, since I knew that I was strongly considering that university for my MFA studies. And there, not long after I graduated from Kenyon College, I met my beloved Jon. I could say my mama sent him to take care of me.

-Grumpy widow post #4: obituary costs are obscene

-Grumpy widow post #3: these death errands are sucking the life out of me.

-Grumpy widow post #2: this is a shitty way to gain Twitter followers.

-Grumpy widow post #5: I can't change Jon's Facebook page until I get the death certificate, even though I am his legacy contact.

-Jon's last poetry reading turned out to be for an audience of two: me, and another poet. Jon read his work for one person (not counting me) as if he were reading for 20, or 50. He didn't take the session's lack of popularity as an excuse to half-ass it.

-This is a pic Jon took of me after one of our epic roadt rips. We were finally back in Carbondale and Jon wanted to take sunset pics. One of his favorite spots was on top of the parking structure next to the hospital. He sure knew how to make me look good in pictures!

-This is a pic of Jon and me celebrating the publication of his first book of poems, Natural State (Glass Lyre Press) Jon would publish two more book prior to his death. Another is forthcoming.

-Hmmm...I know this little cartoon means well. But equating sorrow/pain/trauma with darker "skin" is problematic to me. I know these are black and white stick figures without actual skin, but I still felt weird seeing the erasure of the dark as a positive thing at the end.

-S.E., I saw the post you wrote about the gentleman who became a widower recently and the person who told him he could "choose to be happy." FB is not letting me post on your post. I would love to hug the man, because I just joined the "widow/widower" club this month. It's not yet been a week for me. As for the person who told him that, two middle fingers, delicately lifted 

-Jon didn't drink much, but when we were working at the Hampton Roads Writers Conference (a great conference btw), he wanted the olives that come with a martini. So I got a martini (not my usual drink--I am more a Bloody Mary type--)and made sure the bartender loaded it with olives that Jon happily ate.

-You could say Jon and I were the Tim McGraw and Faith Hill of contemporary poetry and literature--except we were married longer, and Jon has better hair than Tim

-I went back to campus on very shaky legs. Wrote Jon's obituary in the office we shared. Wept at his empty office chair. @ Southern Illinois University Carbondale

-Jon's memorial service, the Carbondale one, will be on November 2 at the Meredith Funeral Home at 1 pm. If you come, I have requests and advice. Request one: wear blue. Jon Tribble loved the color blue, from blue shirts to blue jeans. The color scheme of the funeral home's chapel is also blue (with white accents). Request two: if you can, bring cookies. Jon was crazy about chocolate chip cookies.

Jon Tribble was born in Little Rock, Arkansas.  His poems have appeared in the anthologies The Jazz Poetry Anthologya, Surreal South, and Two Weeks, and in Crazyhorse, Poetry, Ploughshares, and Quarterly West. He teaches at Southern Illinois University Carbondale, where he is the managing editor of Crab Orchard Review and the series editor of the Crab Orchard Series in Poetry published by SIU Press.