1/31/14

J. Hope Stein

 [Inventor’s Mother Reads Whitman as Inventor loses hearing]:




A Baby.  No, a boy now. 
A cool damp cloth.  The lobes of your ears
fever on the front porch of my lap. You say
you can feel it in your throat. You say you like
when I read to you—only the lull I like,
the hum of your valved voice.  The rash first
on your neck. Your skin turning wood & splinters. 
You say you can feel it in your stomach.
.-.. --- .- ..-. / --- -. / - .... . / --. .-. .- ... ... /
 .-- .. - .... / -- .  loose the stop from your throat.
You’re vomiting now.  Your fingertips.
Toes peel like raw garlic. Tongue is lobster.
You say you can feel it in your head— To know
the universe .. - ... . .-.. ..-. / .- ... / .- / .-. --- .- -..
as many roads— .- ... /.-. --- .- -.. .-.-.- /
..-. --- .-. / - .-. .- ...- . .-.. .. -. --. /  ... --- ..- .-.. ... !
Can you hear me, baby?  I pursue you where no
one else has .--. ..- .-. ... ..- . -.. / -.-- --- ..-
The soul travels.  The body  -.. --- . ... /
-. --- - travel .- ... / -- ..- -.-. .... / .- ... the soul,
- .... ./ -... --- -.. -.-- / .... .- ... / .--- ..- ... - /
 .- ... / --. .-. . .- - / .- / .-- --- .-. -.- / .- ... / - .... . /

 ... --- ..- .-..and parts away at last.

J. Hope Stein is the author of [Talking Doll] (Dancing Girl Press), [Mary] (Hyacinth Girl Press) and Corner Office (H_ngm_n Bks.) She is editor of Poetrycrush.com and author of eecattings.com.

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