Pain is Just French for Bread

or exercises in Stein’s continuous present

by Kelly Malone



Those dropping their coats, returning, not haunting or unsettling, are loving and this loving is not stopping. This loving doesn’t know going. I’m staying here with myself and all being with me. All loving, travelling, stopping, in myself, watching. The night watching, the day watching, the light watching, the love watching. In worlding and constructing, theorising and reading, composing and laboring, labyrinths (within microcosms) smaller than duets, coming into being from watching.


No one can be frank, truly frank, unless it is your name. One could be franker or frankest, eat frankfurters, or even travel to Frankfurt, but only absolutely Frank in name. Frank must be an aptronnym, a bearer of distilled truth. Frankly speaking, the adjunct is a sitting duck, implausible and unsuitable for one who occupies a link to dignified gentry. There ought to be austere impediment of its use, and similarly with Stein; Frank and Stein.



[Kelly Malone is a language artist and has performed and published her work in Aotearoa (New Zealand), Australia, Canada, Denmark, Italy, North America, and the UK. She is a Ph.D. Candidate undertaking practice-led research on the approach of Performance Writing.]