grief, and a sense of loss…
we have to …
no, we don’t.
wake up?
no, we don’t.
and it is as if we are passing through a dream…
pass through
dreams passing through a dream…
pass through
gathering the images to us we want
desire is like turbulence
in our transit
who has time these days to furnish themselves
for the interior decoration of their minds?
who has time to…
choose carefully, cos you’re gonna be spending a lot of time in there …?
who has room?
to gather together the images around us…
we want?
in our transit, passing through.
and I recall your 20th century critique of an airport,
a hotel lobby, or foyer: that it was merely a place to pass through,
a transit lounge. Decorated by …?
“architecture is the first science of sensation”
I think we need more screens.
we don’t. cos you’re not gonna be spending much time in there, at all
and pushed up against the body by pain, it has evicted us
pushed up against the wall… it’s nice to have something to watch
out of the corner of your eye
Lou Reed & John Cale knew Andy knew:
a pathology, which the Quay brothers say somewhere is what they need to find
as if a pathology were … no, yes, a character or gave character, by giving to the work
direction: to the transit, direction
gathering together the images … in the turbulence of a wake,
a passing through, in the turbulence of a …transit.
in pain, we lose our sense of independence to
the body,
like an alien thing, like an image we didn’t choose or want.
Who has time, anyway, to furnish the room of the mind?
…or sick, discovering my time is not my own…
it passes differently, differently passes, with indifference to … the wallpaper.
…
time we have no choice but to pass through
…
rewards of loss, in shame
but loss, no matter still
…
what we have really lost is the body
no, we haven’t. It is, as used to be said of desire
repressed.
but loss, no matter still:
still in your room, still against the wall, still
evicted from your sense of self, out of the corner
of your eye: images.
Are they the one’s you would have chosen?
it was repressed, your desire. Now it is not.
but the shame is how your body has evicted you
the sense of loss is from its betrayal.