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In an age of virtual reality
and cybersex,
when authentic moments,
even human beings,
become extraneous,
it's not too hard to
believe
that some of you
think
you can encounter
Kerouac, Moody, Salinger,
the going on the road, the coming of age,
the catchings in a rye field,
without ever reading
their actual words, that is,
the books,
by going over the cliff
of Cliff's Notes,
in a game of chicken
you always lose,
never even seeing
the irony.
Dedicated to all those who have
gotten away with it.