If the light is the soul then soul is what's all around me. It is you, it is around you too, it is you. The darkness is inside me, the opaqueness of organs folded upon organs-- to make light in the house of the body-- thus to bring the outside in, the impossible job. And the only place
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is it a good thing to find two empty pages between the day before yesterday & yesterday when trying to make room for the blue opera afternoon of today a sunday like any sunday in may? there is no one could tell or judge though my own obsession with the in between should dictate the answer & thus let me rejoice at being able to insert today between the day before yesterday & yesterday as if it were the yeast of night allowed these spaces to open (do not say holes to grow) in the spongy tissue of this my papery time-space discon- tinuum— leaven of earth leaven of writing of running writing to earth in these in betweenesses that now please as much as the opera in ear that asks que dieu vous le rende dans l’autre monde but the desire is to stay right here in this world this in between even as the sound changes the radio sings son vada o resti intanto non partirai di qua exactly my feeling sheltered on these pages now filled and pushing up against yesterday
Pierre Joris is the author of over forty books. As one of the foremost translators of avant-garde poetry into both French and English, he frequently explores the lesser-known works of both major and obscure experimental poets.