Marjorie Welish


In the song embargo

one falls back analogously, analogously fond
of glad method
to investigate ‘I’ and its matrix.

A song decomposing

through aria cultivated in any amount, and much with gloved
voice-over into which the authentic “I” has been admitted briefly
as an apprehension. Unseen in many films, she is.

A song

peculiar to the discursive level.


In an elongated opera of pleats, grafts in skeptical
voice, voice is

“I” sing of the song embargo.
Ploughed under aria and set against recitative are vocal
grafts—of epic, novella, now
of a rubbing in sound requiring broad definition
within which goes the bass-baritone Hagen Hakengard, even

as thin voices vaporized
vaporized the crescent of a child’s light voice.