From The Last Great Adventure Is You

Rosebud Ben-Oni  

          — after Deborah Butterfield’s Hudie (1984)

Steel not when they spew & spiel how real recognizes re:

active :: {‘d}heal—

                              Leadeadhorsen :: I too     steel the nevereal



the whistle while you re:

fuse & lessen    reins,           when they un-

eye &     simpler-hoof

mis-re: shapen :: when                     heal{ed}

against sealed like true :: like

                    re:: re:made

          to simulate in:

active froze & more

liminal       craze &

                    Suspend the grief surgeons peal & Upend

          your assailant & kneel through :: yes :: heal will re:you

                    when :: yield :: what o to

                                        —      ::

                                            ::  feel  ::

                                                  ::       —

But fail it


& shranks &

ossifies maze

in anyone

’s look &


How gazed & hard a body can be,

hole-punched & shrouded-tail,

so terrified of every

nudge & wink hitting

          simple nail.     You flinch hu-

          manity. Flee joy, even its less

& -ly. How to believe you

too once moved real,

stride agape, self. –

Assertive & wildly


So they prescribe whip

for wooden when can’t

a block at least stay.     Dewake your assault

with synthesizer & fade, as thwack & grip

still escape.     Not an itch of free. If only. Read.

-only. Memory. Look it’s just. A bad memory, grief


                    & fades

into a hull, like an exo-

remains you could tame.

                                              & I tried, dear horse.

                                              I tried, & they can’t

                                              stilllay & prey prey

                                              faster than stray

                                              light when demon

                                              dregs beat into last

                                              stars of polar night

                                              distant & sweet.


& what last stars I away

will bind far

from healing static

& plain say what

last stars die I have

been to have died



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