Authors: Mark Z. Danielewski
—
For
Katharina
the flute
player. Hamburg. July
22, 1988
The
Present
1815
Cala
mi
ty of Conscience
Rise the brobdingnag
to the Lion’s ball
pawed fair
where,
If all accords to plan
Warlord Waterloo will claw
the hem with grace.
“I trembled at the sound
of footsteps, my conscience
turned aghast:
Melonbrick returning?”
Stavishly amok running
at the mouth: Pelican thinks
ce
champ sinistre
la fuite des geants.
Come now cats and mice
will play
(and scamper exceedingly loud
down the hail)
Infidels of thought
blinder than,
o
yes much much blinder than
bats.
— For Said in Bruxelles.
July
25, 1988
Melonology On A Melon
Is
this
melon right
Pelican
demanded
of
himself.
Indeed it seems to
hold the
curve,
seems right in the palm
(How would Easle read?)
It reminds me
of sorry days in Spain.
Funny they didn’t
have melons there.
— Written on a melon. Paris.
July
26,
1988
When Unguarded Thoughts
Returned Over Breakfast
—He needs to
eat
and so opens the fridge
to
retrieve
along with bread
a brick of butter.
— [illegible). Paris,
July 26, 1988
Peli
can Transpires By Hi
s Cup of
Tea and Decides
to Try His Hand at Conjuring
Is the ambiance of style
elegant ambivalence?
“There”
sighed Patter
and
Pelican felt an
easing
away.
He relished
the
thought
He turned over the thought
He gave it up,
and in an evening dress
she appeared
behind his
dosing eyes.
—
For Lucy in Carcassonne.
August
3, 1988
An
Elegant Prancing of an Indolent Pale Over Revision
Ragged and
towed
in a misfortunate
step,
torn to a spindoil
in
returning
a [illegible]
[illegible)
the alteration:
“Grammatical
metempsychosis”
[illegible]
though Pelican claims
he saw more
through that
[illegible]
behind the
matador’s cape.
— For Becky
after a bullfight in Madrid. August 7, 1988
The Stave Principle in
Regards to
Pelican’s Principles—Or Something
Like That
A
criminal’s
attention
is Stave’s at
hand
gestures
for intimidation
when it comes to
questions
of personal and
inter-personal
balance.
“I’ve gone to the edge
and
found I could do more
than just
peer
over.”
And
he
blinks
like Waterloo
(slowly now)
while
ahead of the game
Pelican wonders if
he could think
that
way.
If he could
relish
closure.
Does Stave stall?
Is tomorrow’s wonder
only
yesterday’s remembrance?
Pelican discovers himself
annoyed.
— Left
at the Peraz Hostel in Madrid.
August
11, 1988
The Ploy
That Put Syllab
ic Stress Differentiation Over a
rt
Pelican stuttered
for
stuttering
is the
hindrance
of
speech
and Pelican stuttered
on purpose
because that’s what he wanted to do
—to hinder.
“You’re a wretch”
Easle
said,
placing
a hair on her palm
.
Stave felt completely
annoyed
by the intention.
Pelican continued on
and
in between enjoyments
he fragmented letters
like he fragmented his friend’s
sense.
— For
Stefan in Toledo.
August
11, 1988
October’s
Tapestry Sale
Perhaps there’s
the
stitch
potential
to consider
—
Quisling’s
adjournment
(which follows)
reflects his invariant gate
—from Pelican’s perspective
you understand.
“Get to the remount
and
head south and settle east.”
Quisling loses
himself
with a compass,
a
fault
of antiquated polarities
when
he was young.
Pelican shreds
away at it
all.
But it’s nothing
new
Quisling is
history’s
name,
— For
strangers met on a train to Nice.
Jul
y
26, 1988
The Wednesday Which Pelican Mistook to be a
Sunday and Caused Easle to Lose her Cards
Amuck
in annular
thoughts
reminiscent of
mango tree roots—
“Are these circular?”
“They
are from
my
angle”
and
mango
tree roots sound—
Pelican confounds his own
imagination
by trying
transubstantiation
on the
evening sea
tide
rising
inside his morning cup.
Easle
throws her tarots
and with
hanging men
and a spotted
moon up In
the air
commands a Taxi
uptown.
The
driver grins
ala St.
John.
“O
Pelican
(portentously
or
pre..replete)
—the turning forms what,
a bird, a plane,
no…
the paraclete?”
—
Sent to [
illegible].
August
1, 1988
Pelican’s Ratiocination
of
Erring Recurrence In
Correspondence He just Left Behind
With forgetful ease
the forgotten tease
of shapeless days
pass by
and
I feel them hesitate
sometimes
and
whisper
their concordance
of
slight
gestures in
glass.
They are mine
and drift still with the irregularity
of
wine and doors
in constructed mythologies
of evening
reflections
long
since
gone by.
—
For
Johanna in Rome.
August 14, 1988
Singing Lesson
When Beethoven Caine to Stroll
The colors
steal
a
glimpse
of praise
and
subdue orchestrated humor
with
tropes.
“I have forgotten to read.”
Easle is
annoyed with the tricode
stitching on a courtesan’s hem—the outlay see.
‘And
when I learned to read again
what I read wasn’t what I’d read
before.”
Pelican’s
not listening,
only
watching the pastoral
unfold in shades of
plaid.
— For
a Dutch
girl
wearing a
Fransican
cross
who
spoke Italian
with a
southern
accent. She gave
me a sandwich on a train to
Brindisi.
August 15, 1988
When
the Excavation
Proffered
up a
Pause and
at
Twenty
To
the
Angel
Passed Right
By
Here
in
the
scape
of trumpeters
poised
before a
curfew
of miracles
we collide into a communal tonic
of words, of silence.
“Well”
and
she said more
than well, but this is the
getting
around,
the circling Bacchanal in four
time,
The
wine
has
dropped
to the cloth:
one season
two seasons
three reasons
(There is
not time enough to count
all
the
way)
sounds
the chorus
sounds
Pelican
sounds the
notes
that brought a
wall
of
conversation tumbling down.
—
For
Claire. Paxos,
Greece.
August
20, 1988
The Parable (I)
It
’s fortunate
you laughed
because
I would have lost
my way.
These
are
the notes recorded
These
are the
lines reflecting
what one
evening had
to say
to another.
“1
walk, see
and 1 believe
a gentleman
passes
by
and
what catches my
eye
are his cuf
f
links.
He is my brother. He is my
father.”
This, a Pelican
inmate declared,
is
the
way.