Monday, May 4, 2009
poem #11
no more stories from this day forth
on the other hand stories are deeply satisfying
my first story was about a murderer
oh how he fooled me
remembering it brings a smile
emptiness is filled
so, doctor, you did it yourself
the truth sets us all free
on the other hand you are cursed forever
repeating your crime is impossible
i have to move on
evidence is never enough
surprise is everything
fred was my new friend
reality was his deck of cards
out of the deck he pulled more stories
magnificent stories
the universe was his green felt table
how he made it spin!
i was entranced
so i gave up real life
detectives outlaws swordsmen
androids aliens vampires time travel
youth forever
fred was only the first
on his heels came mickey, edgar, big bill, jack, jim
raymond, herbert, howard, clark and two-gun bob
time stood still
how did it ever disintegrate?
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1 comment:
Thanks again for this. I think you've really latched onto the text and what it's working on, all the play of names, time, memory, stories... I like the feeling and tone of the language you use.
Wondering too if you've read the rest of the Beckett text (or well the three novels they usually package as the trilogy)? "the first story was about a murderer" sounds like MOLLOY to me? It's a good read if you haven't.
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