Winter 2011


From the Lonely Afternoons

It’s 6:30, the harbor down there
is bathed in warm mist
that small boats move through

as if barely blown along
by invisible goddesses,
and on the sound system

Milton Nascimento
is still back in the Seventies
chanting his falsetto chant

about those immense spaces
of time, hot and vacant,
in which abandoned cathedrals

feel vines clutch their stonework
and aging lawyers doze
over their papers, at the hour

when light oppresses
like a tyrant who has parceled
all the good lands to his friends

and posted thugs
by every fence, people move
as if through a strangely silent

occupied city,
under the heavy sun
walking is grieving

and to see
is to be knocked on the eyes
by the glare of shuttered houses,

and to think is to be
weighed down with emptiness,
is to find yourself a thing

slivered down the middle
by the flimsiest blade,
a small high voice

that floats through the heat
with only just strength enough
to tear the sky in half.

GEOFFREY O'BRIEN

                           from Early Autumn

 

The player will show in this paragraph

"Blue Terrine Red" by Aaron Igler (2011). Video produced in Paris, France.
Source audio collected in Philadelphia (USA), Paris (FRA), and Antwerp (BEL).