Barbara Henning & Tyrone Williams
DEAR BARB, DEAR TY—
In memory of Tyrone Williams
a collage of clips from his letters 1982-1991
Dear Barb,
I miss our talks, too. By the way—were you okay at the party? Thank you again for putting up with me Thursday night and Friday morning. I was so bombed I couldn't possibly have driven home—I owe you one—at least! It is 5 am Sunday morning—I know, I know—why am I still up? No, I didn't make a resolution to meet each dawn. Nothing like women to get a man to break out of writer's block. I know exactly how it feels. Okay, okay, you're sick of the clichés. I understand—first things first. Sleeping on a floor is hard, but take it from me sleeping alone can be even harder. Well love, it's late—hey! Maybe we can just send cassettes of ourselves reading—after all, it's the poetry that's important—not that the audience "see" us. Sounds like you're going crazy. You're going to have to adjust to that pace. Well, gotta run—write soon!
On the publication of your secret file, "Tyrone's Desires," an unopened letter will be sent to the future publisher of your poems, containing my analyses and explanations of your poetry, detailing all your "adventures,” real and imaginary. Wish me luck on my exams next month. Hope the Prince tape is okay—Culture Club, tell Linnée, it is on its way. I was in Detroit celebrating the World series that Sunday before I read, and while I agree Detroit is angry, I find some of it a healthy, anti-authoritarian anger. Maybe I'm just sentimentalizing a happy moment in Detroit history. Over the past few years I’ve been hardly writing at all, re-evaluating the reason for poetry itself; Perhaps one has to be something of a romantic (sentimentalist and/or cynic) to write poetry—I don’t consider myself either.Tell Archie I said hi. Glad to see your life is as wild as ever.
Believe or not, I’m in deep financial trouble myself on the point of bankruptcy. Wish I had more positive or uplifting news, but that's the way it is as of Oct. 22, 1984. Goodnight David!! The long “poem” I told you about earlier is actually being reconceived as a fragment of writing, a piece of writing which does not even pretend to totalization. By the way, when will I see any of the "enclosed" pieces that you never enclose? I like the poem you read over the phone. It was different for you—almost sounded like something I might write (is that why I like it?) When I start watching t.v., I know I'm in trouble. We just had seven inches of snow, so I am home today. In addition, I have had a bad cold and what I think is laryngitis, though strep throat is going around. A friend “Honcho” left his woman and has been staying here. Saturday, he brought home this young Mexican-Indian woman. No one has a car or money, so the girl, who lives with her cousins, can't get home. Yes, madness has entered my life—Did I agree to this arrangement just so I could have yet another excuse not to work on the dissertation? I feel I can relate to how crazy your life can get sometimes. Sorry I missed you when we were both in Detroit. I saw Myrtle in her office, and she told me that you and Steven had gone out for coffee. I searched part of the campus for you but couldn't find you. As far as the girl . . . she left him for me. Enough said. She is staying with me now, love Ty
You’re now in the "hinterlands of Brooklyn" in a six (??!!) bedroom house you're sharing with your legal-husband/in-fact-ex-boyfriend. You want non-traditional? I think it's great! Thanks for the great post card and note. Having just turned 31, I needed to hear from those I'm close to. I thought I'd try to write a letter that was, if not uplifting, more neutral, less bitter. Softball season is drawing to a close and while we expect to win in the 1st round, we will doubtlessly lose in the 2nd. Otherwise, things here are status quo, so-so, up-and-down—in short, neutral. Sometimes that isn't so bad. By the way, my reading went well, I think, though rumor has it that some of my more violent poems from last year shocked the young Cinci audience. I don't mean to scandalize just tell it like it (I?) is. Of course, I'm only guessing—you know how paranoid poets can be. I'm still planning on visiting NYC when I'm more financially stable. Hey—call anytime—collect if you have to (guess that goes for me too, huh!?!). Glad things are going well with you and the kids. It's early (7:15 am) Friday morning, I just returned my family's car, and since the brisk walk back from their house around the corner has jarred me into some semblance of alertness, I thought I'd answer your letter. Sorry I didn't get a chance to see you while you were in Detroit. Just got the book, sat down read it all the way through, and, of course, I love it. Take care and lots of love.
Thanks once again for the hospitality; if you're ever in Ohio, Cinci, etc., dew drop in, heah? I think the more conformist the prose, the better your chances for publication. Screw 'em I say. When one chooses to do what we and our friends do, it seems to me that that one concept that becomes irrelevant and obsolete is happiness. Especially for writers and radicals, love, which can be synonymous with happiness, can be dangerous, forcing one into compromises and softmindedness one would otherwise avoid and resist. I have no idea where I am going and really no way of knowing if I'm going anywhere with this stuff. As O’Hara said, I guess you just have to go on nerve, and nerve alone, regardless of the rejections and dismissals. Hope your new washing machine and dryer are working well. About placemats making your home more real, what does Linnée mean by that? Appreciate you looking at this for me—say or do or write anything you want, love Ty
Charlotte, my cat, died this morning at 9:30 am. You're going to another country? Keep me informed on your upcoming "defection." Something very bizarre happened; I discovered a chapter I'd written on Frank O'Hara and forgotten--chapter five. So I made copies and whisked that off to the committee. Not much of a social life, mostly due to no money, no car, the usual. Signing off for now and hope to see you next month. Since I am two letters behind, I've gotta answer you, especially since I too was sorry that we couldn't spend more time together. But I know how it is to come back to town and try to see people. By the time you read this, you may have already returned to Detroit and departed. Hope things went okay w/the marriage and such. Do send me your novel. I think the poetry magazine should be called Long News. When all this is over, I'll send you the one I'm working on. Sorry I've been out of contact so long. Tried to reach you, left messages at your hotel but apparently you didn't get them. But this is only an initial impressionistic reaction—more critical reactions to follow in a letter. . So I'm furious, she's furious-and we're over, finished, kaput. These things read as though you're writing on pure energy and power. Thanks for the letter of support and friendship. I really appreciate it, I really do. love Ty
As for the Washington DC proposal—forget it. It was flattering and tempting. I was just sorry we missed each other that last night. Thanks for the inquiry into my health—right now the diagnosis is sarcoid—a tissue inflammatory disease. It can strike any part of the body but usually hits the lungs and other internal organs. No one knows what sets it off—but it strikes mostly Arabs and black males. Glad the kids are all right. Will send poems I recently wrote -... As for Long News, the phrase is from a Maya Angelou novel (can't recall name), and it refers to news that affects the distant future. I'm in Philadelphia visiting the Rosses. In Detroit, everyone I see—including WSU English Dept. Profs—is raving over the quality of Long News. Talk soon—adios and amour, Ty
*
Note: When Tyrone and I were graduate students at Wayne State University in the early ‘80s, we became close friends. When we both left Detroit, we continued our friendship in letters and emails. In the late 90s, when we were a little older and more settled, we planned to make a poem from clippings of our letters. That project didn’t come to fruition, but Tyrone wrote in an email: “I suppose my major experience of reading the letters was how uncertain, disheveled and tumultuous our lives seemed [in the eighties]. Not only our personal relationships but our professional lives and "options" seemed, based on the letters, rather precarious. Yet we made it through, somehow.”
Tyrone Williams (1954-2024) was a poet, teacher and a cultural critic. He was the author of numerous chapbooks, critical essays and several books of poetry, including c.c. (2002), On Spec (2008), The Hero Project of the Century (2009), Adventures of Pi (2011), Howell (2011) and As Iz (2018). Williams was co-editor of Inciting Poetics: Thinking and Writing Poetry; and contributing editor for Long News: In the Short Century and Three Fold, among others. Tyrone grew up in Detroit, with undergraduate degree and Ph.D from Wayne State University. He was Professor Emerita at Xavier University in Cincinnati (1983-2023). In 2023, he joined SUNY-Buffalo faculty as David Gray Professor of Poetry and Letters.
Barbara Henning is a poet, novelist, editor and a writer of poetic prose with five novels and eight collections of poetry. Recent books include Ferne, a Detroit Story (Library of Michigan Notable Book Award); a poetry collection, Digigram (United Artist Books); Poets on the Road (City Point Press, with Maureen Owen); and Girlfriend (forthcoming, from Hanging Loose Press). Born in Detroit, she has lived in New York since 1984, with interim years in Tucson and Mysore India. She has taught at the Poet’s House, the Poetry Project, Naropa University, Long Island University and for Writers.com. For more detail, see www.barbarahenning.com
