Johannes Jansen

translated by Amos Weisz

(. . .) in the hope of tapping a sealed work then I walked around through whorehouses closed institutions and on battlefields of undecided outcome . . . as the distance penetrates the disappearant like dye (a thoroughly poetic process) there was represented to me what I took to be correspondences, to be described as follows:

— either you take what you see as a whole and distance yourself from this writhing heap of the future, go backwards with increasing size in order to get your arse to a non-existent wall;

— or you see what you take individually: unconnected particles of a once functional machinery that now sells in its decayed form your being qua existence; the dummy of a marked jigsaw

: there I stood then and compelled to decide to report of an event as a figure with beginning and end twisted around in classical forms in order to fix up at least a formal ending and always virtually toward the end came shots from the actual vicinity with unmerciful consolation into my toil'd-o'er construction splintering cutting it down to size: countless machines swimming beside one another in a lake (similar to time) (. . .)

I look at what is acted out in rage or fear a room with me next door alcoholised couples who indulge in primeval vowels a deceived remembering through which I write my living half couchant on little notepages on my way how rarely are what emerge through me nightslivers of past ersatz adventure the terrain questionable enough in the changing vicinity: