An hour we’ve been at the airport. “But how can you talk
Of Narrative?” “ — The Narrator, then?” “Here comes Proust,”
Says Jean-Claude, smiling indulgently. “Walk
Into the kitchen — ” (majolica on the narrow shelves, roost-
ing like multi-coloured turkeys) “ — the champagne’s in the fridge,”
Antonio shouts. “Reliable? Don’t make me laugh....”
"Remember ‘Les Demoiselles’....” “Or the Charles Bridge
Back in Prague.” “Aber,” asks Klaus, “on whose behalf
Does the author speak?” Silence, broken by the clink
Of yellowing table silver, and of sirens next
Door. “ — Pure Varèse, don’t you think?”
Until, after a hundred such sallies, perplexed
And homesick, I whisper: “book, never end.” For in truth
These were my brothers, once, in a land called Youth.
Of Narrative?” “ — The Narrator, then?” “Here comes Proust,”
Says Jean-Claude, smiling indulgently. “Walk
Into the kitchen — ” (majolica on the narrow shelves, roost-
ing like multi-coloured turkeys) “ — the champagne’s in the fridge,”
Antonio shouts. “Reliable? Don’t make me laugh....”
"Remember ‘Les Demoiselles’....” “Or the Charles Bridge
Back in Prague.” “Aber,” asks Klaus, “on whose behalf
Does the author speak?” Silence, broken by the clink
Of yellowing table silver, and of sirens next
Door. “ — Pure Varèse, don’t you think?”
Until, after a hundred such sallies, perplexed
And homesick, I whisper: “book, never end.” For in truth
These were my brothers, once, in a land called Youth.
(4.4.1997)
