We met up with the poet Paul Legault on a stormy afternoon in St. Louis, one footinto an oncoming fever dream that would eventually send one of us to the ER a few days later in Minneapolis. The rain began coming down harder and harder as Paul, known not only for his original poems but also for his one-line renderings Emily Dickinson — and for being a founding editor of Telephone Books (which “publishes works of radical translation”), spoke at length about the somatic and nomadic influences on his creative process. By the end of the shoot Adrianne had wrapped her sweater around the camera to protect it from the increasingly horizontal downpour, while Paul serenely reached out to catch it directly in the palm of his hand. “That exact, precise moment of just the word coming out of nowhere. There’s a certain magic to it,” says Paul. “And you don’t have to believe that it’s magical, but if you do … if you believe that it’s magical then it is more likely to be magical.”