¡Qué no quiero verla! F.G.L.
Was it a mistake in agony Was
it set in form
A mercurial handshake
Deleterious at that moment then
Then a
Having wrenched it upward & carried
The small stopped head
Flopped
Sideways
It is irreal or forgery
Is it irreal or _simply forged_
the panicked coves
ii
Is it a usual formal element
Synecdoche or in rhyme
Is it impervious to agony
A stopped head not palatable to eyes
A blood wound
A torn information in the fabricate of blood
then a
Is it a mistake in form
or formal dissonance
or form
An aural meticulousness
Craven
A respite is what we long for
The grasses lain down in the field, frozen white
From here we “see” it
(are told)
we are at ease here
iv
Who is running alone at night
a field or animate
All the light inside the stems of grain
Prefabricate or shut down in agony
The muscle of her chest a heart is
saying
“Will not
prevaricate”
v
The rail they dreamed of, a head’s
torsional fecundity in the road
is it an irruptive method
is it a worn cut or tear in the neural organism
is the brain visible as an organ
not metonymic but as flowered
From here we are told
the small stopped head a wound that heals us
As if “simply forged” = beautifulø
in this articulation
Or wound
But who we are
interrogates every consequence
(Berlin, Moscou, Hyderabad)
as if precedence demurs, Elythea
a fact of it
I lay yours there
It snowed at last
Sweetness is where we have lain it
* (a transit thru snow)
Je suis un peintre.
Christian Boltanski
6.51 … For doubt can exist only where a question exists, a question only where an answer exists, and an answer only where something can be said.
Ludwig Wittgenstein, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus
6.522 There are, indeed, things that cannot be put into words. They make themselves manifest.
Ludwig Wittgenstein, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus
Je suis un peintre réaliste.
Francis Bacon
She dismissed the blind bird of narration.
Barbara Guest (misheard, misattributed)