Ph. Dayanita et Noni Singh [Rencontres d'Arles 2007] Source FOR JANE: WITH ALL THE LOVE I HAD, WHICH WAS NOT ENOUGH I pick up the skirt, I pick up the sparkling beads in black, this thing that moved once around flesh, and I call God a liar, I say anything that moved like that or knew my name could never die in the common verity of dying, and I pick up her lovely dress, all her loveliness gone, and I speak to all the gods, Jewish gods, Christ-gods, chips of blinking things, idols, pills, bread, fathoms, risks, knowledgeable surrender, rats in the gravy of two gone quite mad without a chance, hummingbird knowledge, hummingbird chance, I lean upon this, I lean on all of this and I know her dress upon my arm but they will not give her back to me. Charles Bukowski, The Days Run Away Like Wild Horses Over The Hills, Black Sparrow Press, Los Angeles, 1969.
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CHARLES BUKOWSKI ■ Voir aussi ▼ → (sur Recours au poème) Charles Bukowski, Les jours s’en vont comme des chevaux sauvages dans les collines, par Gwen Garnier-Duguy |
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Merci Angèle! C'est MAGNIFIQUE!
Rédigé par : Marie | 13 novembre 2014 à 18:06