Damn.

Yeah, this will begin and end impolite. Losing Peter J. Harris isn’t proper.

An appropriate tribute to Peter is not possible, because I still don’t know how to pull music from the air and hand it to you like a bouquet. Peter could do that, and watching the joy in his face, his body, his aura as he did it was a celebration. Not many poets can bring out the glee of listening to words like Peter; he was uniquely beautiful like that. I once described him as jazz when we shared a stage at Avenue 50, which he was tickled by, but even then, I knew I had fallen short, as writers do when they try to tame a force of nature into words. But then there was that smile, that Peter Harris smile, that said You ok for tryin. And yes, I heard the dropped g in my head.

As much as I loved him, Peter was a better friend to me than I was to him. He is a lesson to me to be a better friend in the life I have left.

It’s important to note that the loss is not just of Peter as performing gale in an often stand-still world, but as a gorgeous writer. His ability to weave, to seduce, to be conjure, was at once nimble and luxurious. Peter’s love of language also made you love what language could do. Peter was so good at crafting a poem you couldn’t see the seams. Peter’s poems flow. Evermore. Try to figure out how a breeze is built, and that’s what it’s like trying to figure out how he did it.

But Peter was not precious or self-absorbed or snobby about poetry. He was generously supportive of other writers, and genuinely, selflessly enthralled by others’ good writing. It was a treat to watch Peter watch other writers read their work. Again, the joy. There’s a lesson in Peter for poets when they are listeners. Peter didn’t just listen, he feasted.

And I love how impossible it is to talk about Peter without talking about his daughter, his soulforce, Adenike. Those who knew Peter knew Adenike. Herself a study in the power of grace. Very few of us have the experience of Parent as Partner, and it was a blessing to see how Peter navigated his relationship with Adenike. There is a teaching in them.

Man, how I don’t want to miss Peter. How I will.

Writin motherfucker.