Friday, July 20, 2012

Of Orals

by Anastasia Greene

no thank you
absolutely not
there isn’t enough light in here
the strain of my pupil, no of my iris
it will blind me
first go the eyes, deuxième va l’âme
the legs will follow et après the tongue
slithering to catch up with the eyes
cut out, cut off from a world
devoid of proper reading light

           non je pense pas
           pas exactement
           rien est possible sans mes yeux
           how can i speak when they’ve come to expect
           articulation or humming from the nose
           pas de la bouche
           the maw without a tongue has no hope of relief
           the eye without a window cannot see
           so it rolls, il cherche les mots pour décrire
           the dissatisfaction of the strain and breathless trial
           of fleeing without legs

                                 so deliberate
                                 exactly comme ça
                                 and sounds in the mise-en-abîme of both
                                 the eyes and the mouth, the light and the soul
                                 l’état c’est moi is impossible if the tongue fears solitude
                                 and l’état is of existence and pain while c’est is what
                                 the english call parle or dit
                                 there isn’t enough light and i cannot be expected to read
                                 or hum or dance if my iris, no my pupil is up in arms
                                 over her exhaustion and the hours i keep
                                 alors je me couche if the me were not so ardent in its reflex
                                 if my tongue had not left me blind, i might not need the light

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