in Marina Del Ray
when I woke to the news
of Tony Bourdain's suicide.
My friend Daniel and I were
were fans of his for a long time,
often making sure people knew
we watched and read before them.
He lived on the same street
as me in NYC,
and I would see him often
at the Duane Reade with his daughter.
Though I watched his documentary
on a flight yesterday,
I still cannot watch his show
for some misplaced mourn.