Erin Moure


Must our fear of sign-systems, and therefore, our investment in them, be still so 
immense that we search for these pure positions?
J-F. Lyotard, Libidinal Economy

What is "set in motion"?
What "is cured"?
If so, "what is a remark"?
& what is justly "evident"?
Who "freaked out"?
Which woman "had a bird"?
Which held a blue telefono en el ruido de la calle?
Who withstood hail?
Who watched at the moorish embellishment of stone?
Which one ordered the 3rd bottle between 2 on c/ Elvira?

Whose reason "stank"?
Whose version was missing a forehead?
"Who is Andalusian"?
Who "stuck her neck out"?
Who, because?
Who "felt grief"?
Whose heart was a "cherish, aimless girl"?

For whom did the name "cohabitate"?
Lying in the narrow room over the cut wood.
For whose heart, grazing her shoulder?
For whose light jaw, its touch of grain on that tangled shoulder?

Where faith was?
Where the odious was a syllable?

Who painted.
Whose fear tore out, leaving the gauze.
Whose veil vanquished.
Whose furious gaze bore no answer?
Who shuddered in such, "in such" a wind?
Whose "wound" bore cause?
Whose syllable met "who"?

I love you.  A use?  Te quiero.
Whose "was" the Atlantic storm?  Who brought rain?
Who did we "ever know" "enough" of?
Whose crater vanquished?
Whose "seemed"?

Whose arroyo winked its pellicule?
Who was there at noon, holding the fresh gauze
on the plaza where the rain spattered
on the book with the cloth-bound cover
on the cobble where the cortical gruel of the accident
			 finally vanished

Because it rained
Because its gutter was a Tuesday's worn endeavour
A microchromatica of the blood
A treasure of sane belongings
An object of doubt...

Whose tome fenestrated daylight?
Whose wore, for awhile, a rough sheen?
Whose surface was "calm"?
A horse intruded.
Whose declaration "mattered"?
A gate of doors.
Whose dream vanished?
Whose dream stuttered an achey name?
A dog intruded.
A calm.

An absolute sonorousness
sinew of her shoulder.
Jerks in sleeping.
Sinew the noise of water, a fountain at dusk lit up
Confabulate "a body" enter.

(Not a gate or horizon.
Not a cleft we have known.
Not a "spirited girl".  This she was lent only for a moment.  This she
borrowed.  This a swank gauze she could not honour or defend.  This a
sorrow's touch of so much "human feeling".  This the name of water out
of "some" fountains.  This a sentence containing "those blousy men". 
This a fragrance of lent oranges.  Her shoulder.  This

her shoulder?  Her shoulder.  A leaning, con su permiso. That once. 
It was set in motion.  No one of us had eleven.  No "once" of us was

The East Village Poetry Web