Lisa Stice

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miseducation #2


we had arrived /// correct time /// I was the West
which is here where they took us /// I asked ///
they said /// I should be able to get it /// indeed
I don’t know /// maps /// countries /// borders ///
in the midst of the wildest and least known ///
there are no maps /// here /// when I talk with
the descendants /// the world is gathered ///
some sort of comfortable enough /// continuous
knocking at my door /// or rather /// it ought to
have done so /// what ought to be /// we seemed
a country /// we seemed /// full of beauty ///



* erasure from chapter one of Dracula by Bram Stoker

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miseducation #4


life is trying /// working very hard to be useful
/// in this way I am practicing very hard /// I can
write /// there is really nothing to interest you
I suppose /// you /// really clever /// fancy ///
immense /// a wonderful power /// a curios habit
/// trying to read one’s thoughts /// I can tell you ///
a bad study /// humbly think I /// but never mind
/// I want to speak more /// I do so want to tell you
all /// so nice to be able to tell you /// I must tell
you about /// will tell /// all sorts of little things
/// was going to tell /// put it very nicely /// saying
is all very nice an all that sort of thing /// I feel so
miserable /// though I am so happy /// a woman’s
heart is free /// it seems almost impossible ///
to say it now /// I must tell you /// that is to say
/// I must say it /// I am glad to say it /// I was right



* erasure from chapter 5 of Dracula by Bram Stoker

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miseducation #6


this day /// let me tell you /// our enemy /// I know it
so well in some way /// that it might hide /// that I
might say oh, so clever /// suffers not as we do
/// it says /// poor girl /// it says /// poor darling ///
not so important /// and so /// it /// loud of voice but
a good fellow all the same /// and it tells us things
which we want to know /// with teeth so white



* erasure from chapter 24 of Dracula by Bram Stoker

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How Hard It is to Tell What It was Like


there are other things, other than
the good—other than a long drive,
a highway bathed in sunlight—
other than the hawk who rested a while
on my fence post—the beasts are not
of the wilderness—no, I am terrified—
the beasts—so cruel and stubborn—work
in marble houses—and they talk and talk
and talk wanting us to grow sleepy from
their talking while bodies once alive
are tossed into pits and covered with
earth until they resemble hills—truth—
yes, there are bitter places—and so
wake—I too had wandered off in dreams,
but the sunless are in more need of poems



*some random words borrowed from page 1 of Dante’s Inferno, translated by Mark Muso

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Banner Art:
Panel with striding lion, Babylonian, ca. 604–562 BCE