>> What is it?
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Monday, October 14, 2002THE BEST OFI like this poem, so I want to "print" it again: The air is thick. Brown air that is as unnatural as the way bodies separate it as they walk. Waving an arm, spirals curl out from your passing hand. What is invisible should not become visible. The air is heavy. Weighted air that holds you down, and suffocates you, keeping out your breath. The air is a gift. A present from past relations. From people who lived with worldly abandon. They never knew, hairspray is a deadly tool. People watch others slow down and die in the street. The air is thick.
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