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I am reading Travis Nicholas's "See me Improving".

FLORIDA

When I was a kid my dad told me
the stars made the sounds of crickets.
The silver trills that had kept me up until
then every night weren't spilling form
the legs of little black insects but from brilliant
points of light in the sky.
He said this to me from outside my window
in the early morning or deep night in a sleep voice
I though was the Gulf of Mexico
fumbling into the shore, so I whispered back,
The ocean was a liar, and I knew it because the other day
my dad told me the stars weren't spider eggs but
distant silent suns so far away they may already have died
and only the light exists of them now
in the great invisible net cast out by our eyes.
Then something strange happened.
His giant bald head rose into the window frame followed
by his one green eye, one blue eye, then his red-
veined nose and finally his beard-fuzzed mouth
which sang out in a clear human voice
I have been afraid of ever since.

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