lady day...

i, Claudia
...she answers the phone after the sixth ring,
the bell of elsewhere chiming closer as if the call to
prayers at Jamla El fna, and hears the voice speak,
reciting verses from Poetess Candela, with hypnotic
sadness that comes across sensual:
...in the night Candela cries,
in the daytime she is much too busy... she
spends most afternoons cleaning Hotels,
and makes instructions for other cleaners...
suggesting tips as cleaning more so
behind the sofa, which she has experienced as the
first place a person looks to see if clean...
...she smiles at night after she finishes
crying, the last few drops of tears time to reflect,
like a child crying you wonder
whether to cry a little bit more or go for a sandwich
or that sweet left in between the sofa cushions,
but by the time you have reached the
sweets you're drowning in them and apparently
dead...
signs of life
...flying through the air the dead bird is at
the window sill overlooking Mrs Lucelle, where
Melania has said that her book of Poetry will be
published by small publisher Italiapa... their
Spanish editor concluding them as suffocated in a
Whiskeyed up Wittgemstein type of way...
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