Dissuasion Crowds the Slow Worker

Lori Lubeski

1998 • 56 pp. • $12.00
ISBN: 9780929022017

Purchase from Small Press Distribution

An extended poem in fragments that are as if discrete collages of a moment or a movement in interior, sensual memory: “movement which resembles still the sound of colored broth.” There are no falsifications of connections, though connections emerge, as their individual realities. “The men’s eyes resemble our desire to have that degree of absent thought.”

Lori Lubeski is the author of Dissuasion Crowds The Slow Worker, obedient, a body, and Sweet Land, a collaboration with bay area printmaker Jakub Kalousek. Her poems have appeared in Talisman, Art New England, Chain, Five Fingers Review, Lift, and Traverse magazine

Lori Lubeski has been working with college students who have learning disabilities for the past eighteen years in programs at Boston University, Harvard University, and Mount Ida College. Since 1998, she has been a Lecturer in the PAL Program.

Lori specializes in all aspects of writing, including composition, literature and poetry. She has several books of poetry published and her work has appeared in literary magazines across the country. Lori’s other area of expertise is working with international students who have learning disabilities, and she has been an Instructor of English as a Second Language at Boston University since 1991.

As Coordinator for Outreach at the PAL Program, she is responsible for sending both PAL students and faculty to LD Conferences and events around the U.S.. Additionally, Lori presents “Navigating The College Search” to high school guidance departments and parents of students with learning disabilities throughout the New England area.



Having missed the
train in fragments
words bring out
the idea of the lost feeling
never can adequately say
what is down there
Ghosts in one’s own yard
the smell of garlic
that I would not ever to that degree again be cold.
until beyond six
you work still
I contemplate your noise
in the back room
train arises
you sudden jump on
we would not care for coffee
or no even tea
someone smoking provokes
the idea of you having been
here before
in a low half note
silent blessing, or miracle
your words profile
the edge of any possibility.
a man exits and a boy enters
how many more childhoods we must reorganize
due to bad or cliff dreams
swimming bloody faces the wave
hits you, your color drains
not even contemplating
the force of your body
being slapped against the rock
instead you clean up after
a man staying in your grandfather’s house
him dying, not being able to
tell the man to go,
being dirty, I sweep the floor.
the boys diving
from high cliff
dramatize my desire
burning of indefinitely through the tunnel
a place where you would never go
my ears listening for cues
to again start breathing
a girl playing hopscotch
falls down on her knee is scraped
boats with tall sails
men reading maps
you fall into another lifetime
lose track of the meaning
of Oakland City Center 12th Street
would not have foraged all along
thus/this far without the desire
to be in the sand with the water breaking close
and the sun still winter
find ourselves
repeating exact feelings
of any other particular situation.
how corrupt the world is
you view eating as a distraction
in the same way
as not to having thought
about the significance
of rearranging your childhood,
growing up
growing up not looking
here the colors blend otherwise.
If the way several boys were talking
symbolized my ability
to be associated with a group at this time
you lean toward my direction
cold after your bath
in a body naked
and thinning from after heat
of water and the boys desiring you.
Framework of a pattern
dislocating from its structure
and what one person
has learned
from another person