The Steinach Operation

A place of semi-natural vigor.


S-a-t-u-r-d-a-y NIGHT! EG's poem is like Sputnik...round an dpointy in places. I'm preety drunkers.


As soon as you failed the rabbit test, I began to miss
our former ignorance, which had had a kind of purity
of tone, a great resounding MAYBE ricocheting like
a superball back & forth at blur-speed 'tween our L & R
bedroom walls. Back then our life was like a movie
about sex; sex was our subtext. This bed our sadistic,
our plastic set. What have we to look forward to now?
Giotto crayons swallowed whole and then thrown up
on us. My pet, the statistics are against us. My bags
have been packed, I've got a foolproof escape plan.
I will program my away message to say: By the time
you receive my reply it may have been scrambled
into something inhuman & nonrecognizable by the un-
known forces that lurk beyond the event horizon.


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