Sunday, January 05, 2014

Crepe Paper Body

I hate all of love as if it were a single person.
I’ve watched so much smoke drifting off
like the thoughts of someone extremely sick.

I’ve rented a room to be alone with myself,
not wanting to be glutted
about having been hot, at having felt cold.

What would be the outcome of everything
if I tell you that in the branches of my bed
the smoke of volcanoes attires me in its vapors?

I dread the ruin which is due to me,
the woman with the crepe paper body –

high, low, all the time,
here and there impetuous fires.

Robert Desnos -One Day When It Was Night Out/ Tristan Tzara -Highway Single Sun/ Antonin Artaud -Moon/ Blaise Cendrars -In the World’s Heart/ Pierre Reverdy -Waterfall/ Paul Eluard -Painted Words/ Tristan Tzara -Song V/ Paul Eluard -Poetry Ought To Have a Practical Purpose/ Robert Desnos -The Voice of Robert Desnos/ Jacques Dupin -Waiting/André Breton -A Branch of Nettles Enters Through the Window/ René Daumal -Sad Little Round of Life/ Paul Eluard -From the Depth of the Abyss


Kathleen said...

Gorgeous. Whole.

Dave said...

What Kathleen said.

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