For Helen. Just because you’ve been on my mind lately.
You asked, “So is this how you wrote all of them? In your journals?”
No. Not exactly. The journals were full of content like this:
Listen (for a just a minute):
One can’t really write a good /original/ poem about longing. It’s all been done before, said before, cannot really be improved upon, because nothing has changed…
Today, I wrote a piece about exploring Havana as a ghost… which morphed into a meditation on freedom-choice… and then, “fidelismo”… What has happened to this country is so tragic and yet… they are so fucking lucky, and they don’t know it. At all. They don’t see it—they don’t see the other turns their history could have taken, and that as far as suffering goes… there are significantly worse repressions. But…it is too easy to pontificate as an outsider.
So I won’t.
Today’s postcardette is all a teaser for the next feature: GHOST. Stay tuned.
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