recidivist | Tree Riesener

  • Krysia Jopek
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some are baptized in water


cut the ribbon dive deep and come up dripping into that act of worship known as followed by light refreshments last call last fling last gasp postmodern postmortem


go down several times grab the brass ring and pull the trapdoor up cool then almost shivery and you’re ready for the apres-dip the party game mouth-to-mouth the sops-in-wine

you need moisture what about a funny uncle with tears but if tears have dried up how about bread crumbs how about earth hey how about the rose like a female evangelist with lots of eye makeup the revered rose the silver-striped rose considered more beautiful than shit and piss (but the old saint knew better)


leads us to the whole subject of ashes for some are baptized in fire

mark your face with ashes of pink net dresses unfunny valentines champagne labels last year’s recycling

stuttering robes of white all flamed and neutered in the urn be born anew in the sumptuary laws of the tortured coal brothers—lump nut egg stoke cannel (oh cannel, sing like a bird, lump you old woman’s darling) pulverized boiled turbinized generated transformed condensed


some come to baptism late and hope for the best

we aren’t let to slip easily happily into this world this praying for an easy death what’s that all about passages are not intended to be painless

becoming insensitive might be an answer we could add something to the prayer a pousse-café take something from the first stanza or even before versed demero twilight sleep

maybe even echo me and bring me back elisha lying there face over my face legs sprawled open to pain you on me me dead on my back sneezing sevenly way back to life

if I shake off the water like a new-drowned dog but plunge right in again if I dive through the flame and only come up ashy as a naked saint if I ring the angelus bell hidden under the corset

if I do that just that will that qualify will that suffice is that enough

to baptize me back to beginning again

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