Glenn "Lucci" Furman, 1985-2024

 

 

The above picture above from one of Lucci's earliest interactions with me on September 28, 2013. It was my second time hosting a 100 Thouusand Poets for Change tie-in since Michael Rothenberg and Terri Carrion founded the event in 2011. The first time wasn't as well attended as I hoped, but Lucci and other friends helped me host a successful and fun event two years later. 

 

Jason Wright, Tru Kween and Lucci from 2013

For many years, even predating the pandemic, I've been obsessed with trying to have high turnout at my poetry events.  It's photos like these that make me realize I need to host more poetry events if only to be with my friends. 

Lucci and I hung around quite a bit as he used to work around the corner from my Jamaica Plain apartment. Many a time he picked my brain about the poetry scene. This was during a time when rifts were being formed in the poetry scene that still haven't healed to this day. I needed someone to vent to, and he wanted to learn Boston's history like the quiet but apt pupil he was. 

I never mentioned anything he "should do" regarding his poetry. He had that part under control.

Lucci from his 2015 Stone Soup feature.

I tried to impart as much of my experience as possible sans bitterness from so many mistakes. In turn, he showed appreciation and supported me as I tried to herald another chapter in Stone Soup's storied history. This new chapter caused yet more rifts as new voices mixed with old. It was newer people like Toni Bee, Jason Wright and, of course, Lucci that let me know I was doing the right thing.

Lucci post-Starbucks "victory" lap, 2016.

In many ways, Lucci and I were both trying to discover--or, in my case, rediscover--our footing as artists. With other "Oddball poets" united under an online magazine and a desire to bring everyone under our banner, it was fun to fail again and have fun. There was Lucci, Jason and me at the Harvard Square Starbucks back in 2016 hosting our first and last ever open mic there (as in don't come back). Such a glorious disaster. \So many fucks not given. 

Oh, the fantasies I had of his Arts Without Ego social media pages (A.W.E.) becoming the next big thing. The two of us sitting outside JP Licks while I envisioned a group of us invading other open mics with A.W.E. t shirts like wrestling's nWo ("New World Organization, brother!"). He told me he almost tried out for World Wrestling Entertainment. I'm glad that corrupt organization didn't have a chance to wreck him.

There is so much to process in the weeks, months, even years to come. 

 

I have videos of Lucci I never posted. He asked me to record a reading at the Dudley Cafe back in 2016. It's been so long, I lost track of it. If I was smart, I gave that recording to him and someone else has it now. 

 

And of course we can't forget the value in his entire catalogue of interviews on Instagram and elsewhere documenting his love of creators and his selflessness in giving them a forum. 

The fact he left behind so much with apparently only a shoestring budget and single phone is incredible.

These will hopefully be displayed and archived over time. 

Talking with Toni Bee the other day, we both speculated that he was still in his twenties when we first interacted with him. You could easily think he was older given his emotional maturity and his overall calm presence. That he didn't live to see forty is unacceptable. Not living to be old is a bullshit Generation X fantasy we would tell tell each other over our flannel rock. Not for someone as earnest as Lucci who chose to be where he was and do what he did. 

In his final note (which I won't share here), he apologized to everyone he hurt. Lucci (I still can't call him Glenn even in print) hurting anyone seems like such an alien concept to me. I can only speculate and unnecessarily personalize what could have possibly made him think biding us farewell was the right step to make amends and resolve his inner conflict. 

Choosing the arts as your primary path, with even your "career" being a means to that end, is not an easy decision, not an easy path. It took several twists of fate to save me from a harder road that I ever envisioned. 

We can only imagine what could have been waiting around the corner for him if he had only waited to become a little older, a little wiser, a little more patient (if that was even possible, Lucci with his zen like ability to absorb everything happening to him in any moment). 

I prefer to remember him with the images above, as someone full of live and potential with a confidence that comes not from cockiness but from knowing that whatever mistakes are made, he was doing what he wanted. And if his choices seemed scary, what other choice did he have but to make him and others around him happy?

You left a legacy, Lucci. It's up to us to keep it going. We owe you that much, sir. 

Farewell, our friend.