[APPLAUSE]
OK, cool.
So another note here.
There's a line in this poem and it's the title poem of the book,
"The Border Simulator" where I'm responding to a line from a poem
by William Carlos Williams, the very last stanza,
and it's up there.
It says, no one to witness and adjust.
No one to drive the car.
And there's a response to that in this poem,
"The Border Simulator."
The only thing sure in this world is death and Texas.
The word crosser turtles in the throat of customs
while a worker steers other workers.
She's someone to drive the car, and sigh a co-worker's name.
Primitivo.
Customs is deeply invested in watching
Primitivo cross the border.
Once a night, always a night.
Some closed-eye visual.
The border simulator.
More like border see you later.
Were you pure of heart when you wrote this thing or what?
[APPLAUSE]