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March 2009, vol 5 no 1
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Jim Kacian . . . Fluidity of days not their sameness but the way they slide one into the next without ritual or belief there should be much to mark them about to cross the equator reverse my spin but they do not hang on anything like a peg and are distinguished so by incident but not inherent structure . . . out the window the village of Supang a bar with sitting men the poets of this culture? instantly recognizable an Indian restaurant, a bakery, a café, a photo developer travel agencies past this facade the village probably as it was before hotel and airport made this a stopover a cluster of shacks placed low amidst the mounded hills and clumps of date palms well placed to use the abundant rain stopped now if only for the moment . . .
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