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