Hocquard or Valéry, p.2
PHOTOGRAPHER WITHOUT FILM
Picnic in New Paradise
an archipelago
6 trout 1 stroke of sunlight
7 tadpoles in the foam
the old habits of the mill
rotten fences
1 watersnake
In relation to
what one can say about dreams
that one dreams for the second time
a piece of the puzzle
in the pages of a book
The island forms a barrier
the flat rocks
the rivercourse the rounds
deadwood in the current
An exercise in casting
hooked by the catch
G rearranged the shore
and fastened her bra
K threw off the pike
that didn’t make the grade
50 cm it was
We measured it
49.5 cm thrown back
A chapter about “all,” “some,” etc.
a chapter about “thou,” “you,” etc.
a chapter about “the beautiful,” “the good,”
another type of confusion
Lunch on the island
the table of smooth stone
what difference does it make
if instead of saying “it’s good”
you only said “ah” and smiled
Or if you were content
to rub your belly?
The New Paradise
is vast and completely
misunderstood when you
are inclined to say “this
has a certain kind of beauty”
To speak, to write, to voyage out
to meet someone, etc.
Focus on the circumstances
in which these words are spoken
to bring about a more complicated scene
(a chaos, yes, of leaves, of noise
of lights, of smells, of feelings,
etc.—Poor Quentin!)
where the river itself plays
its supporting part
It suddenly asserts itself
anew—river—paradise
beginning with anything, something
new despite everything
What do you know about damage
Mr. Sun Red Water
K gives the example of waterworks
establishing falls
year after year
and collecting other reserves
the wrack of drifting weeds
a gaze awash in the current
“The list must also include
that coffee with the pleasant flavor”
It’s like saying
“this is how I classify
that kind of Art”
For example, in the morning, on waking
J hears a bird
whistle twice like a man
or even a plum tart
Picnic in New Paradise
an archipelago
6 trout 1 stroke of sunlight
7 tadpoles in the foam
the old habits of the mill
rotten fences
1 watersnake
In relation to
what one can say about dreams
that one dreams for the second time
a piece of the puzzle
in the pages of a book
The island forms a barrier
the flat rocks
the rivercourse the rounds
deadwood in the current
An exercise in casting
hooked by the catch
G rearranged the shore
and fastened her bra
K threw off the pike
that didn’t make the grade
50 cm it was
We measured it
49.5 cm thrown back
A chapter about “all,” “some,” etc.
a chapter about “thou,” “you,” etc.
a chapter about “the beautiful,” “the good,”
another type of confusion
Lunch on the island
the table of smooth stone
what difference does it make
if instead of saying “it’s good”
you only said “ah” and smiled
Or if you were content
to rub your belly?
The New Paradise
is vast and completely
misunderstood when you
are inclined to say “this
has a certain kind of beauty”
To speak, to write, to voyage out
to meet someone, etc.
Focus on the circumstances
in which these words are spoken
to bring about a more complicated scene
(a chaos, yes, of leaves, of noise
of lights, of smells, of feelings,
etc.—Poor Quentin!)
where the river itself plays
its supporting part
It suddenly asserts itself
anew—river—paradise
beginning with anything, something
new despite everything
What do you know about damage
Mr. Sun Red Water
K gives the example of waterworks
establishing falls
year after year
and collecting other reserves
the wrack of drifting weeds
a gaze awash in the current
“The list must also include
that coffee with the pleasant flavor”
It’s like saying
“this is how I classify
that kind of Art”
For example, in the morning, on waking
J hears a bird
whistle twice like a man
or even a plum tart