in memoriam jacques derrida
There is no Waste Land.
Jessie L. Weston
Monkeys!?! Are they all
monkeys?
Tired monkeys.
D’you know that during the rococo
period
—of the eighteenth century
you monkeys were given a new
identity by representing the
exoticism of the Far East
—I would fain hope…
Verily, kiddo, I walk
among monkeys as among
the foreskins and limbs
of monkeys—monkeys
in ruins.
gala or apocalypse,
apocalypse or
a part of the body, a
secret part
But let’s go for a moment to
the great ecumenical current
the discovery or the great
unveiling—I kid you not—
the ear whispering under its veil of hair—
or the milky way—study the tone
itself—
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