written by Alain Farah
transl. by Gabriel Kunst
Making tiny birds is not my job. But staying healthy is. By avoiding bridges: lift your leg.
Close the door from where the wind begins while soundly reciting the names of your favourite blackouts, useful zebras or coherent wagon – the barricade of pretext is invisible behind the protuberance. It seesaws between symptoms and research. It inhabits the kilometre thanks to the alphabet that is embodied in it (repetition, totality), consonants of all allegiances and unified xenophiles. It is written past the line, like a challenge to matter.
In the infinitive on my plan: eight steps, two rackets and danger.
Original: Alain Farah, Quelque chose se détache du port, Montreal, Quartanier, 2018 , p. 18.
Photo: Flora Shi