W e M a g a z i n e I s s u e 1 7 , V o l u m e 12
Book Three
had not the birth but certainly was groomed to it
tied-up night upon night to catch
hold.
could not & then would not
SPEAK
but had in mind
the closing of her hand
the clearing of weapons from her pockets for Spring
how could?
soft by moth lip - relief
surmise it this way.
osensiate@
b
i
r
t
h
restrained as in handle
handle of a saw - slow, slowly
to be sure.
with more than curved intimacy
children stuck in the folds
nothing but leisure
nothing to change
curve
of
curves
rode to bedlam
in
archangel garb
god is a night owl
oil is the fire of paste me to a sprocket
double / inside dew
force - drag on
replica (made masque)
burnt:
olive:
errata
Katie Yates
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Please reproduce this document across cyberspace
as you see fit. We look forward to receiving comments,
questions, complaints or poetry from anyone.
Please inform the editors c/o
[email protected]
We Press
Postoffice Box 1503
Santa Cruz, California 95061
