Page 42 - Jack Foley | The true litterateur
P. 42

What crazy birds
                these crows who saw cut slice
                the sound & good old branch
                of the cross where they have perched
                The name Cohan still has magic. The mere mention of it was enough to
                unleash a stream of talk from the two of them.

                [FIRST VOICE, speaking simultaneously with SECOND VOICE]:

                allied w/ leaves—soft-spoken—“Bend all your bows,” said Robin Hood
                “this day at the kirk of Gamry”
                a sudden spasm—monstrous wings—
                can’t walk—can’t talk—furioso—spasm—

                EVIL IS EVERYWHERE TO BE
                SEEN THERE IS NO
                REST FROM IT
                THE POWER OF DEATH
                THERE IS NO
                And just when I might have reproached myself—It was Lucienne’s thoughts,
                mental attitudes, the plenitude of her being which I encountered. Not one of my
                kisses went astray.
                estranged from that —much can be said—differently—
                All these are promises made at a certain time (yet broken) to Love, which
                   stands, wavering in a doorway, speaking words which I can neither hear nor

                you are endless, sorrowful—
                in nature became fragmented before him—
                “Gae hame, gae hame, good brother John, An tell your sister Sarah”
                “she found him     drowned     In Yarrow”
                fuck you, man     To think of this again: think: forty years ago
                there: my face in the mirror—
                the “hermeneutical situation”—

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