1.

I’m not thinking about the mouth
that hangs in the dark above us
like a bird
breaking itself against a closed window
Instead I am thinking about the rest of us
Swimming in the darkness beneath it
I am imagining our sea of upturned heads
So much concentration
swallowed in such a small dark maw
I am imagining us consumed
and consuming
collecting in those jaws like an overcrowded lift
like a mouth too full of pebbles
like a mouth too full of someone else’s words
A man’s words
like so many others before him

 

2.

Yes, women have been dispossessed of their bodies, their desires, happiness and rights. But they have always remained mistresses of this possibility of eclipse, of seductive disappearance and transluscence, and so have always been capable of eclipsing the power of their masters. (Jean Baudrillard, Seduction)

The deconstructionists were incredibly fond of women, in the abstract at least. They associated them with a seductive, illusive, embodied power that counterpointed the enlightenment man and his world of words and certainties and guns. A women’s body became the vessel for a new set of possibilities constellated around cycles, circles and reflections – a set of indeterminate movements between indefinite points. A signifier of effacement and oscillation. Not so much a body then, as the absence of a body, rotating endlessly in space.

What destroys people, wears them down, is the meaning they give their acts. But the seductress does not attach any meaning to what she does, nor suffer the weight of desire. Even if she speaks of reasons or motives, be they guilty or cynical, it is a trap. And her ultimate trap is to ask: “Tell me who I am” – when she is indifferent to what she is, when she is a blank, with neither age nor history. (Jean Baudrillard, Seduction)

As I said, the deconstructionists were incredibly fond of women, in the abstract at least. But who has ever met an abstract women? Someone who is not so much a body, as the absence of a body, rotating endlessly in space.

 

3.

There never used to be anything before the number one
not in the classical Western world at least
We were afraid of nothing
Of the void into which it would cast us
It was from India that we borrowed the zero
A nothing with a circle drawn round it
A tiny piece of nothing broken off
And displayed for our consideration
Like a red mouth
with a dark centre
a soft fleshy zero
broken off from the rest of nothing
A form
without a body
rotating
and rotating
endlessly
in space.

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