recto_verso raze he published a book of poems. i flipped through the thin paperback and read about his self-imposed poverty and the friends who banded together to buy him a new guitar. on the last page, the artless text became something more than the sum of its parts, and a melody was married to an unexpected rhyme. my eyes didn't spend enough time walking across the second-last line to tell it to the rest of me, but i made sure to remember the end as strings swelled on the soundtrack: "you never get another day without a dark start." 240103 what's it to you? who go blather from