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These are the images that created this book: the bodies falling out of airplanes; the man who comes every year to place flowers on the grave of the anonymous, dead pilot; the murmuring ghosts of Comala stuck in the bureaucracies of purgatory; the murmuring ghosts of Comala transposed to the rotten carcass economy of Chicago; the father being covered up by the ungrateful son; the blankets pulled over his head; the words “Am I well covered up now.” A refusal to be covered up; a refusal and a subsequent death.

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