from one exile to another.

January 27, 2014 § Leave a comment

frustration is the painting without the painter.

for I belong to narrative, I breathe it.

without it, I cannot lend meaning to passing

paintings, which remain markings

in galleries of errant homelessness.


the story, or I dissolve: this is my demand.


I am unable to make sense of what has happened to us,

between illustration and narration.

without one, the other necessitates my removal from

relatedness to the fact.


and my unwillingness to stay related to the word: encapsulation

marks my timing, my coming, as solely self-interested.


I don’t need to know, know, internment as war-rape-postwar-perpetuation;

not-talked-about-internment, disremembered-internment, no-honour-in-incarceration-internment


and narrative, and illustration. nothing lends meaning to the zones d’attente

but the act of remaining open, while closing


our story is not intended for expression, but internalism

remembrance, internalized resistance, forced forgetness

and all the other ways of perpetuating oneself beyond that which is taking




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