Antique stuff

Antique stuff retrem­pé à la force des lourds inter­nets, VierSomes 003 (The Berlin Edition) contient mon com­men­taire com­po­sé d’Une Vie de Maupassant sous le titre Flood sea­son 3, un truc antique retrem­pé par la grâce d’un anglais qui consacre. Coquilles, marges maigres, gra­fimse, démembrement.

And in fact, all the same, in the end the whole thing
tends to look
like blocks of prose powdering
hacking about
the pro­si­me­tric temptation
like a can­cer you might learn about
always one day too late
or so, already
redu­ced to ver­bo­se­ness about what dying is
or may be
might be
the sta­tis­ti­cal language
of pro­bab­bli­ties ove­rad­jec­ti­vates loosely
suf­fixates, moral, sen­ten­tious, urban
plan­ning reconstructions
bring up a new balls:dignity ratio
adverse to both.
A baked tou­rist resembles their victims,
bel­ly just dif­fe­rent­ly bloated
disor­der spreads to peo­ple’s names, manes
varie­ga­ted cli­mates appear
mad ani­mals get cooked
look
the future and all
was all rea­dy to be written
as only crea­tion attunes
groans
this sleep
for all we care
for all we know
might as well last forever
and we would never report our­selves missing
yet, all this while,
our names & manes dis­se­mi­nate leisurely
the flood las­ting more than a year
among others
and being alrea­dy written
greeks & latins
the ancient historians
ances­tors mis­sing at the mall
dubious walk, sus­pect sprawl :
geeks on latrines, prophecies
in shapes of shit & cloud
the loo fas­ting more than a year
the same thing applies to groupers
and other mis­sing animals
for which digni­ty’s not a dressing
cook ! mal ! add ! animals !
under the rus­se­ty light of fire
his­to­ry’s oozing things.