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What Is That Book About? #3

3. And now I am writing, in a smaller book. But you can’t read it, and I will not talk about it yet. And if my voice has made it to you, my small persistent chirping, a cicada near an airport —poets, we are happy with the dull clunk-clink of the coin you choose to […]

What Is That Book About? #2

2. The little book I read, as we are captained by your mother in the vehicle as it travels the narrow black strip of these few years we have together, today beside the Tasman Sea, sock, and salt smell, of you, in your headphones, engaged in tablet games, and short enough still to have your […]