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 cf2785@albnyvms.bitnet We Press Postoffice Box 1503 Santa Cruz, California 95061