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1
Yesterday we forgot, today we remember
Yesterday we forgot everything
Today we remembered something
(I can tell you nothing, I said
You resist exclusion
The shutters tell you to enter
The open door creates a panic: “Stay outside, you must remain outside’)
The doors of the city are shut, a light rain falls
Taxis seize the bus lanes
Doors open and shut, passengers alight feet first
In their hands a straggle of loose change
And lists of what next, what to do
2
We remember when we forget
Every attestation a disappearance
You are here and you are not
The note sounds and we are swept overboard
3
In the midst of the silence something occurs
In the steadfast silence an appearance
I concede, says the historian
Your picture appears in the paper, you exist
(He’s only a self-appointed historian anyway; no matter)
I concede, you exist
You are on the record, you exist
He shuffles his papers on the dry wind-swept plain
His vanity is endless
4
The temple he builds is a backyard temple
He builds his temple in the backyard
The neighbours lean over the fence: ‘What have you got there, son, a temple?’
He builds a temple, a backyard temple
‘Should I build the floor or should I leave it
Should I build the floor now or leave it till later?’
5
He can’t be a god, says the preacher
He can’t be a god, he wears a neck brace
He can’t be a god, he goes to the dentist
He can’t be a god, he can’t quote the Vedic Scriptures
Oh yes, she’s a goddess
Oh yes, she’s a goddess courtesy of her facelift
See, it makes all the difference
She’s a golden girl, she stores honey in trees
Her golden tresses are honey gold
She’s wild, she’s wild like a wild river
We call her Kundry, she lives in Croydon
6
The fish look coyly, they’re native born
They’re bug-eyed, she says, like mudskippers
They discriminate, they’re discriminating creatures
They can tell, they can tell the difference
They’ll leave alone what they need to leave alone
They’ll devour what they need to devour
They’re machines of our own extension
7
We forget when we seek to remember
It follows then, she says, that we only remember when we seek to forget
The golf ball clatters against the roof of the dairy
The golf ball goes dink against the corrugated wall of the cow shed
There’s a target
There’s a target and a big sign saying … HELP!
A golf balls spits across the slope of the paddock
Springs on the thick kikuyu, dribbles to a stop
A feather falls from the sky
He looks up, there is nothing
He looks up
Nothing
He takes it in his hand.
Everything!
John von Sturmer
Friend in Hand Hotel, Glebe
19 12 2009
(in performance with Slawek Janicki, double bass)
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