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Carol Muske



Though most of the time she ignores it, the city comes at night offering itself in the abstract, the way you might have imagined New York for a musical comedy star: a fixture moon, a corner uptown where dreams stay and radiate. It is almost night. Sh [...]


So you woke up holding it— the aura of possession which surrounds a single thought. Not apperception, a halo, an obsession. You couldn't comb your hair without turning to stone. You were imagining it even under the plumbing: water steaming up your [...]