domingo, novembro 17, 2013

“Four stills from ‘The Poet’ (a film) for Tom Raworth”


The poet, drunk, is seen
composing a poem to the revolutionaries
of the world.

It is to be a long poem.

While working on p.9 he realizes
that he is stone cold sober:
he stops, goes back,
reads what he has written
starts crossing out words –
lines – sections –
whole pages.

One line remains,
on page five. It says:

the heroes, their mouths full of

It is not
a very good line. Maybe
he only forgot to cross it out.
We cannot
ask him.
He has fallen asleep.


The poet,
addresses his friends

You, my brethren
in the dream:
remember the time of night
we have agreed
to light our pipes of peace

Remember our pact
be gently mad children
at the appointed hour
paint the blue sign
on your foreheads

Knowing each other’s rooms
we can then be together
no one must know
our vow not to grow
up in their world


In the morning,
the poet looks out
and sees a quiet residential neighbourhood

Look at it long enough
and it won’t go away
talk to it long enough
and it will yawn
scream at it long enough
and it will dawn
upon you that Rome
was not overthrown
in a day


He returns
to bed:
there is,

- Anselm Hollo

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