her heart, it's
full of bullfighting & Turks & a young girl on the stairs of the house in the presence of a man who did
love her... poor Fraulein
R— ! still wet from her bath amongst worms in rotting wood with deep roots & beetles in decaying
fruits & leaves in an old-fashioned heaven, she was at a loss, was
systematically debased like his feet, like an impeccable organism that was purely saxophonic she was
a pince-nez with an opaque body without
a silken mask over its face. This crazy lamp! Oblique, dimmed, withheld, it's full of inflamed eyes like
an iron stove. I cannot say he was a hard-hearted man, in his lopsided limping fashion he
was
in the threshold of a door in the middle of Vienna blowing his horn like a crazy lamp in a lopsided
limping fashion, & a stiff breeze was blowing syllables of various prayers, the
very nasty poems like the floor of the ocean or eyes without pupils or vexed skirts, the
sadomasochism & flow of particles that animates the turn-of-the century professor
throw themselves at his feet.
The skirt is hard to kill, like the explosion of a nativity, like breathtaking chaos making a joke— it's
ticklish work,
returning as a ghost from dreamland where he saw the turn-of-the century's daughter, who was at a
loss what to do; could she stand the winter's cold when she was dressed so lightly? She took
solace in the stairway & threw herself at his feet; there has never been
a keener eye directed at Paternal death.
Absolute zero. A quiet harbor without metaphysical surrender. A pince-nez full of 2 gold coins & rats,
poor Fraulein R—!
she changed her tune, forsaken by everyone, half-rusted, & the magic forest moaning & threatening
her, the rats moving down the frontal lobe toward the basal ganglia;
The rats had another meaning, like hieroglyphs that vex her skirt; they have
sharp teeth & a libido that's oblique, dimmed, withheld as a quiet harbor without metaphysical
surrender & full of the soothed language of love-slavery & a threshold flowing with particles &
white petticoats full of real live birds & maids-in-waiting; he remembered
a scene in a prison, cruel as Vienna wearing a silken mask over its face & also a green satin bodice.
When the mules resounded on the tiles it lasted for several months, like an elementary
organism at a loss what to do, & forsaken by everyone. Fraulein
R— was taking a bath in a nearby dungeon full of
witches, hieroglyphs & paternal death.
2 gold coins & a hard-hearted man & a maid-in-waiting.
Likewise, the rats were children.
NEXT PAGE