Ploughing a Self of One’s Own -Dancing Girl Press 2021


“It is untangible which means that the tangles have been taken out

and there is a reason for their not gradually getting stout”

                                                                                                                                     (history or message from history) G.STEIN

mind in the whole body


with what would never fill in

the right moment of happiness

for being here and nowhere else is like saying:

I’m nude in a complete solitude

head tossed against the walls against

the bark of trees so as

to slowly move

on to work                 the one of words

a name here            which is not                          her name there

            left to the careless      they are annoyed not very

Is history the stranger that grammar will never marry?

Is Mary the memory of     a love letter?

                          Is hope    the realm a bounty of disappointed wishes built?

Is this writing by accident?

Whether failure or falling   it happens   where pens are not happy.  But patient.

At most: sphere. We’re not the earth’s inhabitants.

                                                                            We live in a bubble of babblings.

a body in a whole mind


for a breath to come in 

buried as if a root

when the eyes are searching 

for light

say: I’m nude in a full cosmitude

NINE                          M D P  (for Menu Design Psychology)  

(after Gertrude Stein’s Christian Bérard)

As an appetizer

just a question of subject

whether eating or being eaten

whether in passive or active mode there must be

a subject

and cooking is at stake

through all kinds of  “****-ical” recipes

you decide for a side                         or                     you are sided

you act                                                 or                     you are acted

you voice                                             or                   you are voiced

dish                                                       or                                 dished              


why how where when are rolls of bread

                                                                     to accompany the meal

and dressings are made of out and in and over and below and above and …

while choosing à la carte                                             don’t forget

ingredients of consciousness   are spices to be used cautiously

you don’t want streams            to flood the narrative to excess

in this Pantagruel-like trial

judges and the jury

are poor entrées

along with having them reduced in the frying pan

bringing to a boil the many he and she and it

will never simmer

any delightful dessert

except and                                                   only to the extent that


activity is permitted by

whether neuro- ego- or being-laws

only with and together preparation will do

TWELVE          Wishing Well (after G.Stein)

“It is not a range of a mountain

Of average “ …


is not

a range of

a dream of average.

It’s an average dream.

A  broken  dream  as  any 

dream is when you wake up.

 Night  after  night it’s  a  mountain  

of dreams  that you pile up. You add and you

 get an average height for your dead  dreams  as any

dreams are   because the eyes are unable to play  them again. I’m not speaking about an average woe of climbing a mountain step by step never looking  back never going down the steep when hope supports you all the way up. Hope might be an agonizing dream. There are casualties in it there might be an unnatural truth in belief. Faith is a blind unwise living dream threatened by mercy. Mourners are dreamers having drifted their hands from air  to  water  this is just  what I  wish  to  say.  Just  an  average  of  unimportant nightmare.  To be broken.  And you wake up. At the top of a mountain.  An average mountain._____________________________Do not fall.