Christopher Coe

“There will always be one final everything; the last word, of course, the last breath; there will be one last check you write, one last nap, one last artichoke.

There will be a last time you chop scallions, a last movie you will see, a last time you fly to Rome. It doesn't matter how many coins you leave in the fountain.

You will make one last photograph, and be photographed one final time by somebody else; there will be one last time you will walk on a particular street, one last time you will go out from your house or come back into it.

You will have one last dream, one last orgasm, one last cigarette. There will be one final time you will see or be seen by the man or the woman you have loved, or the people you have known, unless of course, you outlive them all, which is not likely.

You will lick one last stamp. You won't know it when you do.”
― Christopher Coe, Such Times

“There may have been a day this year when I thought of him as dead right off, the first time he came to mind. Most days I think of him as though he is alive. It can happen anywhere. Walking on a street, reading a magazine, I will see a listing for a concert, a review of a movie, a new place to go for dinner, and will think: Jasper and I should hear that, see that, go there. My mind then works out of habit to remember what date we made, when Jasper said we would see each other next. When this happens, it only takes a second, maybe not even as long as that; it is quick, not a time you can measure by a watch, but most of my life is contained in that time.”
― Christopher Coe, Such Times