wing publications,st appeared: StreetLlampton Star, andrated~h, reprinted fromy Review, with themay be reproduced:tronic or mechani-mation storage andfrom the publisher.PREFACE One of Michael Braude's virtues as a poet is the fact that he enjoyslampooning himself: a good number of the poems in this volume areself-satire. For instance:Strange the fruit that growson the tree of knowledge,stranger still the fruitthat grows on the tree of doubt.I have savored both, yes, I have savored bothand the juices ran down my chin,stained the custom-made shirt I wore.Or again, speaking of his friends:In fact, quite a few consider me dull, insipid, a monumental bore,while still others insist I am dead, killed at the Battle of Hastingsby Harold the Loser in a fit of professional jealousy.I think the best of these is the one called "Nonsubjectivewhich the writer becomes a painting:I was looked at appraisingly by a visiting collector,but, discovering I was unsigned, he passed me up in disdain.