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June 2005, vol 1 no 1
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Jim Kacian, USA suspended in moments of my own myth: a backhand on the way to a semifinal in Cincinnati; a sun-dappled oarstroke off the tip of Nova Scotia; a frost breath lost in the pulse of the Alaskan aurora . . . even better: an extended present, my face pressed into the warm dark that is you on this black morning . . . winter coast–when there is no one it's so long |