Lisa Robertson's Magenta Soul Whip. Lisa Robertson

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СКАЧАТЬ kid’s weaned on eternal promises and humiliation. dominant give me your superb sign so I can use it as a crutch or a rope cast into my pointless fidelity, yes dominant I’ll tell each dilated fib with my dripping tongue as delicious recreation, enstate my credo of necessity, the tongue like an ego to me, dominant – whom shall I serve? without you for whom welts fatten I’d be minus agency minus glory minus number my author who cuddles me insatiably my soul’s bulky with you as it is bulky with fibs.

      VI

      whatever the cause of the grace of dogs, the soft odour of books, the quibbling of kids, it’s unbearable. no docent knows such grammar. nor am I parsed, me, a vain wreath of milk, vanity itself, caro factum, quia certiones, non spiritus ambulans and islands of written stuff, a vast itinerary of errors as I died upwards towards you, vita mea, like a magnet, sure, like girls die of fierce love and friezes commemorate the fierce cords of light that are their souls and soldiers eat sponge cake and I don’t love you and I fornicate towards you singing down down and it is the solemn world I pull against my tummy, down down and no fierce extreme sedates me no sequence of the lips and teeth.

      say nothing of the soul that flutters its sleeve dictating not this not that not this muddled doctrine. I’ll not name each oblivion each venal carthage each dumb rut written up in verse. dominant my ink’s not diligent like yours. I simply tug and vend and strum at pacts secundum signa quibbling litteris in commodo. sit poetica stupid with words past their sweet-arsed date.

      it is the difficult tally of my tongue to admit that such songs and those of puerile docents stroked my milky ego.

      VII

      dominant may I call you rex now and feed you tidbits? my heart calls you rex because you’re my first part, as rex I’ll serve you what are called tidbits and each locution and scribble and number just adores you rex what is vanity is really your discipline for vanis peccata delectum multa for the rest of my life to please you I won’t fib rex, I promise.

      and towards what illusion my little rex do I tighten the cord that is my ink and adulate everything sentient. rex my pet what is suspended between us is sewn of figura.

      who can resist a Human? who doesn’t finger lies?

      VIII

      a word’s a precious vase to sip from, an illicit verb. both kids and scholars sip there the sweet lubricity spilling over tongue and rex I sipped also I can safely say this now since I sip from you no other figment no other persona no other sentence rex what is suspended between us

      the soldier reaches from behind the falling man’s neck to grasp his snout; he is becoming a horned animal.

      The Story

      On the eastern sky, fingers of pink light.

      Facing the sun we left town and drove, fresh

      light on our arms. A young girl slept under

      the opening fingers. But what can we

      keep. All night they sleep. We launch into rest

      and the flames burn through

      alone in its clearing. The brave thing would be

      to sleep in a hut again, dawn to nervy

      dark, studying

      the ground. A covey of women got out

      worn and tough. So much for that.

      And all night long the truck sheared through the

      night into the dawn. And the sun went down

      and all the roads grew dark. And here I lay

      in ambush all night. In quiet Sleep my

      eyes shut. I lay down and slept

      in luxury. I went to Sleep above

      the wash of ripples. Dawn came. By night we

      ran onward. Nine days I drifted. Sleep weighed

      on my eyes. And I went to rest out of

      the wind. I slept on duty. Day waned.

      All the roads grew dark. I cut, I died, I

      fell, I dove, I ate, I fell, I fed, I

      felt, and there I lay in ambush. I fought

      I found, I fled, I flung, I flew, I fore

      bore, I forbade, I forgot and my eyes

      my eyes shut. I lay down and

      shut. I forgave, I forsook, I got, I

      lay down and slept in luxury. I hid

      in luxury. I went to Sleep before

      I hurt. I kept, I knew, I laid.

      I left, and went to Sleep above

      the wash of ripples. I lent, I let

      the wash of ripples. Dawn came. By night we

      lay. I lost, I made, I met, I over

      came, I overdid, and dawn came

      above the wash of ripples

      ran onward. Nine days I drifted. Sleep weighed,

      ran onward. I ran, I said, I saw, I

      sought, I sold, I sent, I set, I shook, and

      on my eyes nine days drifted.

      I shut, I sang, and Sleep weighed on my eyes.

      I went to rest out of the wind. Into the dawn

      I thrust. Day waned. I sunk, I sat

      I slew, I slept, I slid into evening

      to rest out of the wind. I spent, I span

      I wept until Sleep came. And

      I stunk. And I slept on duty. I struck

      hid in darkness, dropped

      my eyes and nodded, overcome.

      I swore, I took, I taught, I tore, I told

      I wrote. Day waned into evening.

      Burnt, I burst, I cast, I chid day, waned

      into evening. I crept, I crept, I

      dared, I dug, I dipt, I drew, I dreamt

      two hours had disappeared.

      I dwelt, I wept until Sleep came. I froze.

      I gelt, I girt, I grew, I hung, I helpt

      I СКАЧАТЬ