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The Kites Cat boats wait down by the water, rig tackata-tacking. Kites knotted to masts lash above: a diamond, a dragon, a booming bird, made of crackling paper plastic, details trailing down, following.This is a habit of this part of the beach. Sometimes a husband of this or that woman gestures from overfed loll at a kite as if to say that’s me,that’s what I’ve done, as if he, his achievements, were tied, tugging and skirling, at the end of a reel, to something big and material but about to swim should the ocean come in that far: what can he do about it?  ...

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