Aug 26 3:15/lc
1.
Towards a Community of Ethical Views
To pursue
a venture in common: the Poet revisits the eyes of Toyen. The
moral basis of Her boat. What is felt in freedom is Letters
rising out of lyrical abstraction Word a concrete collage:
Poet boards her red boat:
There is a red song:
"The eye of the old women warning
The Seer cannot be caught, the Seer holds on to her bones
The Seer sells not her own, the Seer cannot be bought..."
There are four blue fish to throw back:
Firstly the
call to Borrowprecisely : "Do you have...?" what the poet recognizes
as
Timbre ofHooked mouth ofof the unvoice: Crucial now [speaking
meets with interfacing - what stiffens - what does not show, turned inward]
The ability when pressed for a person as objectfor usewhen
this you hear
Throw it back!
Secondly
the cold fin, the low-down: re the above: to oblige must here be translated
as
To transact as
Thirdly there
will be no reciprocity
Throw them
back!
Fourthly
note the structural irony of the bones: the insurrection mimicking
the dominant, Passion giving way to packaging. A disquieting corruption
:using the
children, disappointing the children
:the dead
horse: a sure thing
An old Czech saying: "The fish stinks from the head down" has been reversed
Throw it back!
-
There is this then:
At a Certain
Hour
a woman was
framed
In this window
Against all this
return to the eye pulsing
In the Poet's palm the
Alphabet of
Blood and milk
Lick it
Leaves scratching gently against glass as being the nails of women calling
at the windows of first-floor friends. Are we related? Toyen inquires.
I consider you an exquisite example of blood, the Poet replies.
Her voice drums the evening, reassuring : "Yes, Great grandma, the
eyes in the back of my head
wide open and listening..."
The evening reassuring the great beauty within is PoetNo, there will
be no Rehabilitation if you swim with the blue fish. And it is not for
you to hold commerce with them
At a Certain
Hour you being naked saw
under their
skirts: Tails!
A tale! The small girl saw
that they had tails and
she began
trying to get away. She said: I want to go home
-
Next, this Believing the body is equal parts water and clarity simply
by listening to a clear voice. The poet presses her ear to her great empty
bell. Finally the Child born. Exactly 40 weeks. Joy mingling with
Sorrow: [when the new child came his small head on her breast she cried
she said for the old child born too soon the months a sky of glass came
between his mouth, her breast]
Then:
Her mouth, her uplifted eyes: can stave off the growing influx of carpetbaggers
At a Certain
Hour
simply by noting the resemblance of these blue fins churning the deep
waters to a whirl of flattery
At a Certain
Hour
beyond the circumference of the body a ludicrous periphery: scales weighing
in, flinging themselves white with salt from the swinging baskets: see
through their skin?
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