My Tired Father

Pohem

(fragment)

My tired father used the thought-gaze

He hit something solid with a pole and turned to me with a triumphant air

In fact everything was limited to a sort of exorcism of fear Only the crossing to the other side of the gesture was important

I had heard of the terrible storms there and I had come to know them

I made identical gestures the dial had no numbers and the sun shone somewhere very low

Weeping I asked for something to drink My wife mentioned Abend Oh if only he weren’t at this moment above the masts in his barrel she sighed There he is and there he should stay I said

And if he sails in a barrel he’ll be in a fine spot

Around the same time someone decided to dedicate his life to science (potassium sodium aluminum)

One the other side two groups of three executed identical but inverse movements The second part corresponded to the first The third part excluded any countertendency and became a product

A ball rolled on a floor thus transposing itself into a completely separate category

Everything upset cried out

Between the two (parallel) walls only one man still practiced the old demonstrative functions

Space was a kind of sequential panel on which I could apply anything at all

On waking I had a pulse just as blind and obscure

While the intelligent students acquired sound knowledge within the framework of a demanding program

The language of sets was integrated in small doses

The pendulum’s oscillation on which I had meditated a long time showed me furthermore that there were many distinct bodies that in blending neither disturb nor exclude one another They were in some very distant places

A young woman appointed professor in a gigantic school resolved to love her students

A photographer left his wife and felt compelled to accept the invitation of a priest retired to the south The priest succeeded in reconciling the separated couple

A man was stretched out next to his wife The ceiling reproduced the incline of the roof

A yellow spot seemed to emerge from its own absence

My Tired Father. - Green Integer : København & Los Angeles, 1999
Translated by James Brook