Danny Solis died in his sleep last Thursday. He was in New York to once again perform his poetry, as he had done in pretty much every state in the US and some other countries as well. Danny was that rarest of poets, a working poet, a troubadour. In addition to reading his poetry widely, he led numerous workshops and seminars. Probably a thousand young poets were introduced to the art by Danny. That he died in his sleep seems odd, since to me he often seemed not to sleep at all, but also fitting because that’s the only way Death can sneak up on a guy like Danny Solis.
Back in 2001, I was in Albuquerque hanging out with Danny and Kenn Rodriguez. The occasion was an open mic event to raise money for the Albuquerque Slam Team. Danny performed two pieces that night, which are presented here in honor of a strong, strange, passionate, and powerful poet whose influence will span lifetimes. To say that Danny will be missed might be the understatement of the year, if not the decade. As Shakespeare said, “We shall not look upon his like again.”