[NetBehaviour] ((( zazou3&4 )))*

Alan Sondheim sondheim at panix.com
Fri Nov 30 09:06:12 CET 2018



((( zazou3&4 )))*


http://www.alansondheim.org/nepalsarangi2.jpg
http://www.alansondheim.org/zazou3.mp3
http://www.alansondheim.org/zazou4.mp3

" the jaunty suicide, slick chic suicide, the earworm song, gala
suicide, dapper suicide dashing suicide, debonair suicide, natty
suicide, spruced up suicide, lively suicide, the really chipper
suicide, the swell suicide, the earworm jaunt, eyeworm lively,
earworm chipper, natty slick chic suicide, "

like this then, thinking on or through suicide - a difficult
task - would have to be - then turned elsewhere - too much to
say, too worn in a way, and that tied into utmost despair - the
continuous impossibility of _proving oneself_ - not only a sense
of isolation - recognition of powerlessness as well - it's
inconceivable - as if this were the last frontier - for who
doesn't think of hir own death - on a daily basis - and then
when physical or mental pain blocks everything - when there are
no gates in the walls - when there are no walls - a battlefield
perhaps - ptsd - or a gnawing feeling - not impulsive suicide -
that's easily understood - something at hand - nor calculation -
as if it were a crime to be covered - but a slow transformation
- that's what frightens us - as if the landscape itself changed
or somehow corrupted - rusted - dissolution of the pallid grays
darkening so covering the shadows so indistinctly that forms
themselves lose their dimensionality returned to the most meager
of outlines which disappear into something almost describable as
an untoward substance - the world's disinvestment from the very
soul of one - the withdrawal of care - as if it were always a
selfish act in the face of anyone or anything or any deity - any
at all -

when (((i))) was younger and in paris meeting an old friend from
jerusalem and in the utmost misery (((i))) could imaging and
speaking of suicide from what vantage (((i))) do not know and in
her apartment where (((i))) remember the fading left-bank sun
and interior - talking with her about my desire to die at that
point - she opened a small box and said - here are thirty pills,
take them - from that vantage (((i))) withdrew - never looked
back - it was the wager that saved me -

- as well as soon after, turning that into a poem in an early
publication that started somewhere the blanched blaze of my
henceforth downward career -

+++

* the ((( ))) of _being a jew_





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