Category National Feature

Books Nobody Reads

the river organizes itself around/the ring fingers of the city planners// walking is an exercise in becoming/the rivulets criss-cross down the stairs// no strident social voices can equal/the equanimity of the touristic gaze// all fallow hands on deck are heard/melodies through the megaphones// of the fluted stories no longer echoed/in the camouflage of ochre embankments
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