Poem
by Carmen Firan (b. 1958)

“I cannot write because I have no personal experience

I lied too much, I lived in too many bodies

from my imagination 

I somewhat loved stagecoach drivers

men with long fingers, ballet dancers through history,

I invented all with lucidity, systematically, although I was afraid

I was terribly afraid the saleswoman would catch me

stealing books, cigarettes and chocolate every Wednesday.”

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