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It’s a Dusie

At Dusie the Tuesday Poem #88 is my poem entitled: neither evil nor saved, I sidestepped it all at the second coming. Perhaps for curiosity seekers, to see the previous step before would be interesting. It is a homophonic translation of this:

Plantée devant la grille, je tends mes mains moites vers le corbeau de fer que le froid hérisse d’une sorte de duvet blanc. Peut-être seras-tu le seul dans toute l’école, ce jour-là. Pas une âme qui vive. Profites-en. Paresseux, insouciant, la tête ailleurs, le jardinier laisserait tout faire. « Personne ne montera sur mon estrade, dit Mademoiselle, en secouant son chignon. » Puis elle s’éloigne, à grandes enjambées dans le corridor, après avoir refermé la porte.

Which is a paragraph from the P-text chapter of Michele Provost’s Roman Feuilleton which is derived from her taking classic Quebecois novels and cutting sentences into strips alphabetically by the first letter of the sentence, and making new books and works from putting them into new books alphabetically.

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Categories: Poetics.

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