Thursday, April 15, 2010

Errant Knight

All stories are the same; they tell us about our own lives’. Look at me when I talk to you! I’ve smote bigger men that you! In his head he hears evil mad things. No matter which leg he stood on he heard things in his head, loud clamorous things. SERVES YOU RIGHT, a voice yelled in his ear, DAMN YOU!

“While this conversation, amusing to all except” the legless man “was proceeding, they ascended the staircase and ushered” him “into a chamber hung with rich cloth of gold and brocade; six damsels relieved him of” his pushcart pole “and waited on him like pages, all of them prepared and instructed by the duke and duchess as to what they were to do, and how they were to treat” the legless man “so that he might see and believe they were treating him like a knight-errant”. (pilfered and bastardized from Don Quixote)

The legless man heard this in the eye of his mind, playing it over and over again like an unwanted tune. 'my mind’s eye is a slaughterhouse' he thought ‘a place of mincing and dicing, chopping and splitting, rendering flesh and bone flaccid and cooperative’. Blinking he continued ‘mind’s eye my eye… there is no such thing’.

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"Poetry is the short-circuiting of meaning between words, the impetuous regeneration of primordial myth". Bruno Schulz

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