M. Slater, also known as 'Slats', was killed in a car accident.  She was thirty years old, and just beginning to develop as a writer.  Sadly, these three very early works (circa 1979) are the only copies of her poetry available to Poetz today.  Slats is always remembered and still very much missed.  This page is our tribute to that young woman, who died before the internet was properly born.  Slats Helicopters, wherever you are, we salute your bold, poetic, and sadly stopped Brooklyn heart.

The clippings on your wall
Show everything you've been thru
And everything you've wanted
I hear your dreams thru
Rattling windows
Magnified
Larger than death
Every slight annoyance becomes
Obese
And is my constant companion
Your constant guilt

Timetells
My beauty will crumble off
Your spunk will last a lifetime
However short
It will get you what you need
While the you inside me
Looses the dream
Falls to society

Slumped to dead
Lifelessness
The man was slumped
Around the parking
  meter in the shape of
A coke spoon with the hammer
  of lack of luxury slammering
On his head and torn
  wallets from too many bills
The sun riveted off the
  windshield wipers of
The Caddy parked
  in front of
That parking meter
The sun can't cure everything
  not knives in backs
  or hungry bellies
Not even the
  man slumped around
The parking meter