Philippe Beck, p.6


The blameless; the irreproachable; the fearful; other men “equally divided between shadow and immensity,” (Faulkner), but fearful. Here is a list of men different from Job. Job is a château in Spain, at the edge of a cliff (at the site of an edge). He is racked with incomprehensible guilt.

A heap of roses steams.
A heap of maple sawdust steams.
Vapor heaps suffer
the brushing aside of five hundred pairs of cattle
seven thousand sheep, three thousand camels
five hundred asses.
And a plenty robust domesticity.
And plentiful solidity,
a solid lucidity,
appetite by no means whimsical.
Fortitude to reek of roses.
Libertine quiver? Gratuity to live
a life of prayer—unafraid of straying, the difference?
Gratuity? Free love at sword mouth?
I spoke of frivolous humility
to freely swallow up unsavory
rose. Must cast dust upon the rose
heap, more glass broken, lucid
emotion interruption.
Eyelids of the break of day, eyelids of
finer aspirations than trees or derricks.

(Intensity puts the idiot to death, Job, 5, 2. A friend is neither vehement nor feeble.)