Sunday, December 31, 2006

by Suzanne Stein
for stephanie young
(also for david buuck, & david becker)

as treasonous Children, --so this floraling

Appearing before us

where follows a fervor


slapping & stripping?

in honor of one of our Crimes

I was writing

a text who

was perfectly aware the passers-

by & by would refuse an intervention

of heaven or earth as--

soon enough--all things cease to be written.

within hours or hairs

on knees on hands on

sprawled, promiscuous pages,

our organs

lit up as

a gesture less than whole, or by becoming heightens

the dyed-in-the Descriptive

& thus laid beneath the Hero, who would not come.

a body that won't feel itself is Not

having it any better

than the body


in the waters there at night, the shoal, the sleep, the night,

complicity levels rise and rise, as walking rises our level, Stephanie rise and rise,

I was the pretty young girl once

and quit it for shelter like a knife in errant water, it was errant shelter

the books too improbable to hold, and only water

continuance and

you were the pretty young girl once

fastened by a locket to the throat of

thought that

out of decency, or in


thy that I could or not

remember--a radio Stephanie, a radi os

vaporish, cocainish, loosens the contours of the shape of

bodies shaped adrift for steam or fire, all baptized, all cauterized, and still

at any

rate Holy


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