David Cerruti’s Reviews > South of No North > Status Update

The plane rose and the camera went on. The girlfriend and I talked. …
Maybe you ought to say something profound for the sound man?
No, let him sweat. Let them all sweat. It’s their film burning.
On the escalator out of the airport a man asks me, “What’s all the cameras? What’s going on?”
“I’m a poet,” I tell him.
“A poet?” he asks, “what’s your name?”
“Garcia Lorca,” I say…