Čučnik’s fundamental poetry can be abstracted in a single line: “I do my best”. In every corner of space and time, in a breath of his speech labyrinths can spread out. The present comes to the author ever more as an illusive minute “when somebody came and left soundlessly” – therefore the poet, striving to get as close as possible, has to thematise other time spans using voices from old photographs, as rendered in this book. This poetic talk is capable of taking over any textual discourse a poet encounters (“a casino of words nested here before any thought may have broken them”) – from a message written in pen on the rim of a banknote (I do admit, unlike Čučnik, in my own superstition I really tend to copy such message on other notes – though Čučnik also copied it – in his book) or a cycle of text messages he is being sent (“blessed like Dostoevsky at the time of Demons”), all the way to verses by John Ashbery and Elizabeth Bishop. Using this textual material the poet establishes even more subtle structures in which simultaneous thematising of different speed of time is what I find important.