Q:

A:


My grandmother told me a story. When she was a young woman, and bombs were dropping themselves on Europe, food was scarce in Arnem, the Netherlands. The bitter winter had frozen the ground, so that even a shovel couldn’t break the surface of the earth. On a particularly cold morning, a German plane was shot down, and crashed into a field filled with potatoes. The women of Arnem, my grandmother included, ran into the field, newly thawed by the burning wreckage of the plane, and gathered potatoes in the half-light of the evening. Not having shovels, they used sticks and other tools to dig the potatoes out of the earth. Some women used their hands, not having anything more effective at their disposal. This story is true. It is also true that my grandmother is now dead, a part of the story that she would find herself unable to relate. All stories exclude someone from their center.

A:


A talking ape, fluttering its fingers against the bars of the cage.

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No one is in the middle.

A:


I don’t remember much about it, though. I remember your hands. Your hands on the wheel, following the lead of my words. I remember your hands. Your hands at your side, emptied. I remember your hands on the table, your hands on the ground. My own hands were damp, and slipped easily into the loose topsoil.

from Thomas the Obscure, by Maurice Blanchot

He nevertheless decided to turn his back to the sea and entered a small woods where he lay down after taking a few steps. The day was about to end; scarcely any light remained, but it was still possible to see certain details of the landscape fairly clearly, in particular the hill which limited the horizon and which was glowing, unconcerned and free. What was disturbing to Thomas was the fact that he was lying there in the grass with the desire to remain there for a long time, although this position was forbidden to him. As night was falling he tried to get up, and, pushing against the ground with both hands, got one knee under him while the other leg dangled; then he made a sudden lurch and succeeded in placing himself entirely erect. So he was standing.

green, yellow, magenta, white

found spam poem VI

I was at the country side 

and suddenly 

saw Massimo Kamscin 

putting hand up

till elbow. 

Have you ever seen some ...

something ... 

like this?

Just take a close look at that picture:

Tell me please, 

if you want to follow me, 

next time I travel outside the town.