Jean Rivard - University of British Columbia

Derk
W y n a n d
Body Bag
Tristan Tazara's still picking himself out
of his paper bag, phrase by phrase or less
than that, reassembling himself. Et vous?
It's not all a matter of preference
for hip bone, say, thigh bone, exquisite head.
Whatever comes out, he says, resembles
him, or does he say it resembles you?
No one's seen anything go in. So, who
has been sitting on his hands all this while?
And who is selecting bits of what is
or will be himself, or you—depending
on the traduction you believe in, or
traducteur, proverbial traitor—out of the bag
with the cat/chat and its whiskers and meow
at the core of his work before corps exquis.
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