It all begins with a vibration. An imperceptible movement that accelerates minute by minutes. Wind, along screeching whistle, a lashing hurricane, a torrent of faces, forms, line. Everything falling, rushing forward, ascending, disappearing, reappearing. A dizzying evaporation and condensation. Bubbles, more bubbles, pebbles, little stones. Rocky cliffs of gas. Lines that cross, rivers meeting, endless bifurcations, meanders, deltas, deserts that walk, deserts that fly. Disintegrations, agglutinations, fragmentations, reconstitutions. Shattered words, the copulation of syllables, the fornication of meanings. Destruction of language. Mescaline resigns through silence—and it screams!
—Octavio Paz, from from his Introduction to the Miserable Miracle by Henri Michaux, New York Review of Books, 2002.
The way we
The way we might in minutes
The way we might be shattered in minutes
The way we’ll stop and take it
We’ll go inside, fly
The vibratory room
Cross this line
We’ll wash our whole aura, our body, our musket of protection
The mask we’ll wash and dry and wash again and dry
And again wash til the hands disappear
The dangerous lift, you feel it?
The power, don’t come near me
On knees, you are invisible ally, a torch, a persuasion
What can you drive more into a nail than your tiny head
Crying for the medicine to treat the invisible bubble, the pebble,
Seep into the crypt
The dead code hovering around the cave, a rocky cliff, all upside down
I remember now the liberation then, how we’ve never do no harm then
Young in the maze,
Then, and now?
Cry for the medicine in the crook of your arm
I remember a myth was closed against all words
All words becoming every word trembling with damning light
Because you sat on your cloud, but come down come down
You are words only now, what else have you, poet?
Come down from that cloud
In the maze that was protection but we did harm
And the seal came off the prophecy for the human
One more time.
Alystyre Julian, Outrider film