Two brothers and two poets. But one with the poet's disease,
alcoholism. As this brother dies of liver failure … and family
dysfunction … and medical indifference … the first brother
reflects on one of the central obsessions of the second brother: the
degree to which our perceptions of the real are framed by
presuppositions that blind us to the boundarylessness of existence.
We do not live in a world; we live in worlds. In a sense, death is
integrated into life; it is within us, even as we live.
