WHAT'S SUPPRESSED
from Disobedience
by Alice Notley
I dream I'm a detective a man trying to catch a woman I'm in a barroom with small reflector-mirrors high in each corner. She's in the locked back room. I pretend to be drunk to blend in until she comes out? into this room of the self full of others and mirrors. She is the soul. -------------------------- Always trying to find that back room that being is there only such a thing as brute form wherewith, a cheap Chandleresque detection device a man with a coat and a gun a room with mirrors because I can't leave your company, your approval. I like the mirrors, their silver small hints of the total reflectiveness, the litup soul/self I have been from time to time I can't remember. -------------------------- Down at the real corner car, no one wants to be here in August. Six men playing cards and drinking red wine. I stare at thin hair dyed red of wizened woman paying for glass of white bordeaux she didn't drink it all, she smiles someone in the habit of trying to be interesting a former tart, it's horrible that I think like that. -------------------------- Hypnotize self into a fantasy world a world of caves. (Yes, I do this, I can.) Sit down before a rock wall with writing on it. Let whatever the E's are sharp when I touch them. That common letter. it's surface everywhere A shadowy man in a gun-coat has come to find me. Why do I like these caves so much? He seems to be asking the question. Because evidence left in them is our subject of detection. Is what's lost to the presumably awakened world I'm, we're, the result or flower of suppression. Much of one is suppressed towards being another kind of one other colors, petal arrangements, scents you can only have one scent I want to know what I've forgotten for 50,000 years. Think of those ridiculous déesses so-called Venuses, in French museums. What do I know. It's so fatiguing to hate you men. -------------------------- Define soul: I am soul Look on the wall: Elelse... -------------------------- I could say that the detective becomes even more interesting older wittier drunk a veritable piece of characterization for you isn't it marvelous he reads a lot an amateur critic/philosopher belongs to a Derridean study group (siècle drags on.) -------------------------- Become more lost in caves... the caves expand, enclosure dissolves I want to go to heaven this second I know I can't stay I've been there before momentarily I float alive, larger than history. Better than history
Pub. May 1998
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