Transient Sex: Poetry's Greatest One-Night Stand
jason tesauro
I crossed the Golden Gate Bridge and aimed my rental car up Highway 1 past Sausalito to the town of Larkspur in California’s Marin County. Mystery and transient sex were driving me toward the best poet you’ve never heard of. By the time I reached his address, I’d traveled 2,940 miles and still couldn’t decide if this was an obsession gone too far or a discovery that hadn’t gone far enough.
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