Do you like him?’ ‘Oh, he’s wonderful. I think his love poems are the only ones I can take seriously.’ She felt excited to have found a poetry...reader. ‘How so?’ He looked interested too. ‘Well, you know, love is the most overdone subject in poetry. Sometimes love poems try to be too strong and just come out limp. But his poems—they suck you in.’ ‘You know what? I know what you mean. There’s something magnetic about the way he writes. Even in translation. Do you speak Spanish? Are you reading. Doug wasn't there again—still sleeping it off, I surmised—but Celeste was. If she'd missed dinner entirely she'd be pretty hungry by now, and her mildly chubby body told me it wasn't accustomed to missing many meals. She smiled at me pleasantly as I entered but made no move to invite me to join her, and I took another table.Once again it was order-anything-you-like, and this time I opted for French toast and bacon. It came with honest-to-God maple syrup—none of the artificially flavored. More

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