Our Fair France

One usage, aim your words toward the air and being born in time, taught how it’s done can anybody teach you such a thing or how an actor learns the ropes, he must just walk the boards, rehearsal already action, intention rattling around redundancy, the more I read the more

believe the lines a document of fact of things that happened and keep happening at times it seems to dare you disbelieve, belief then presupposed, his eyes put out which adds to me, look there, were not our own relieved to take it in the way a death will energize, I made a pot of tea

the morning the phone rang as in a dream continuous with life, one way to see the queen whose work is everywhere but she unheard of almost continuously is through the discipline of listening, long ago you studied this, close reader a victim acting as accomplice learns

such naturalism to pace her part she walks away from her own victimhood or does she walk toward it in her mind till she’s too far to hear herself, so each unhappy family has one who listens and the truest way to include her is an aperture in the story, silence

inviting the sound of the youngest voice who by the end unchanged and yet become his mother, predeceasing as one would who never should have put it into words in that sense it is true unlike the stuff around me casting shadows every day these lines will keep enacting your return

return to make yourself a little more a usage growing seamless day by day a pelt containing all but them, speak less than thou knowest, the Fool and I old friends hath borne me on his back a thousand times no wonder then he faded from the play as halfway through it Celia says, I’ll sleep

I am not these and while he needs them all to speak a presence all he wants of me, the stone at the top of the arch that holds the falling forces up so went along with one of the few mercies heard when France his offer made, I’ll grant you, I will grant that mercy is conventional, a word

that needs no personality or mood it never reaches for effects, it is if some perceive my France mechanical it’s true, not saying that I do, it’s just like what they mean by does he make you smile, how could you furnish a laugh not also leaving her sat in a room for a while

my absolute favourite thing, he saw from the first, sojourning with our pack of is left alone, air still, it’s there I learned detest the one I love so half the time a muttering under my voice, as if it were my voice and yet I do decline exposure on the heath, for what is nice

about this France, the place he brought me to that shares his name is that they truly give no English here, I reckon they speak French which tells you less than this, it’s more they place a turn in my understanding, as after he died and morning was cancelled but another came and then another

the French a style of English, soluble ink which blends like Samuel Beckett’s clear of form, the thought alone, though not for me that journalling, I have a big TV my absolute favourite is Rohmer, to fall asleep leave on Le Rayon vert and then can’t sleep, I judge the subtitles

J’ai tant fait patience, I’ve made such patient taunts qu’à jamais j’oublie that never shall I forget what never swings a swinging door to kitchens where the help go out and in, believe it means that I agreed so long could never know the lowest thing and cling precisely as this, this much piled up to

cling to, mom told me once she hates old films what, all of them? yes, all unwatchable the women more affected than the men, I didn’t ask about the newer ones of course her costars think her mad but France said what they take away just adds to you, I don’t grasp all of it but what I grasp

of my own mind as each word makes contact perhaps because the French sounds also in some deep sense leave me alone, let me be, as if there were a zone inside and the centre could exist (an opening) without language, that is where I’m free though I can’t tell you what I do in there