Monday, 26 November 2012

confession extract

so many hours
a drizzle of stars their
pepperminty aroma
tiny crystals on eyelashes

it is as though
it is as though
it is as though
as if

two eyes outside one body positioned
on the rainground looking
up. immediate
archival deletion / retrieval / dereletiontrieval.

those responsible for such
things tidy the eyes
away into
a file

so many oblivions
stars pop like balloons
keeping clean and presentable
heavy crystals on cheekbones

it is as though panic is a lake, serene with swans
it is as though every word is unambiguously a button
it is as though that place was there all my time only
as if as though

eyes in a head
flat to the groundrain.
no memory.
no forgetting.

those responsible for such things
examine the interior of the file. then make of it a police cell.
“And a third confession: I have begun to feel a strange, a quite
peculiar and now no longer repressible preference for you.” (1)

(1) Robert Walser, Jakob von Gunten, tr. Christopher Middleton

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