Death is something that happens to someone else, quipped Duchamp. But, conditioned as we are by television news, it's more likely that for us, life is something that happens to someone else. That is, until Spitzer arrives with his new book of poems to reveal to us our own true mythologies, the mythologies we miss:The return of a problematic friend, the sex life of a tattooed woman, pulling into a gas station for a burger, in other words, what we omit, what falls through the cracks:Our neglected stories, the places where life really lives. Julian Semilian
