What I should do is phone; the circuitry
is there and we’re both somewhere in the circuitry.
I need to talk. What should I find to say?
You know how it is: it rings; you answer; no click;
no dial tone. Hello? Hello? No word.
Not even goodbye – I couldn’t give you that.
Listen to this: to write you requires a scheme,
subtends an apparatus, such that here
be an I, you be he there, space
discerns the entities , depicts them such
as the scheme requires. Are you lost? I am.
I want to be not lost. I write even so.
Tell me what to do. I want to show.
Schemelessness. Undress. To speak from that.
I want the secrecy; I want it said.
To speak from wordlessness. There are certain things
that happen and we don’t know: proteins meet
and shape each other. We are the husk of this.
Whatever happens happens in some such wise,
under attention. I hate all huskiness.
Let me be where it happens, let me be the hidden cells
and silent if silence is all there is to say.
I want to talk though. I want to talk to you.
I despair of what to say. Goodnight. Goodnight.
– William Bronk
WRITING MEANS CLIMBING THE STEPS OF OUR LACK
– as if the aim of writing were to use what is already written as a launching pad for reading the writing to come..”
– Edmond Jabes –