—You should have known, Bildow cried out at him as he slogged toward them.
—Whut?
—This, this . . . poem, this thing of Max’s, you wrote that essay on Rilke last spring, you . . .
—Rilke, but that was on Rilke, Rilke the man, an essay on Rilke the man . . .
this is like the funniest exchange in the whole book. some guy plagiarizes rilke in some magazine and the editor of the publication had written an essay about rilke lol