2 September 2004 | Vol. 4, No. 3


                         Is it

                         paste out of which the new world slithers?

Shit has a history & it's balmy golden

notes off a black clarinet. Damp &

leathery, funk matted skunk fur, sweaty

buttery nutmeat. That ageless passaging

secret of the body of transformations, godless

& medicinal. Why did they use it, the pungent

offal, and why