Love in the Time of Logocentrism 

(Pastiche by /cual –June 2006) *

My reverie caresses Obscenity
begins when there is

the soft murmur of your sigh.

no more spectacle,

no more stage,

O, how life laughs

if your black pupils
only glance!

And the shelter of your light

no more theatre,

laughter is now mine,

no more illusion,

when everything becomes

like angels chanting.

immediately transparent,

It soothes my wounded heart.

And all, all is forgotten..!

The day that you shall love me

visible, exposed

the roses that regale us

in the raw and inexorable light
will wear their party dresses

of information and communication.

with all their brightest hues.

We no longer partake of the seven winds,
the drama of alienation,

the tolling bells

proclaim you to be mine now;

but crazily, every fountain...
in the ecstasy of communication...
Thus alienation
will talk about your love.

gives way

The night that you shall love me

to obscene ecstasy.

This obscenity is no longer

from the deepest blue of heaven

the galaxies
"hot" and "sexual" with envy
will watch us as we stroll;

and a mysterious
but rather "cool" aura
will nest upon your head crown,
like an exotic
and "communicational" glow-worm
The need to speak,
revealing... you,

my only consolation!

The day that you shall love me

even if one has nothing to say,

there will be naught

but music;
becomes more pressing
the dawn will bloom with brightness

when one has nothing to say,
as a joyous mountain spring;

the slight breeze will sing to us

just as the will to live

with a melodious murmur,

becomes more urgent
and all the founts will offer us

when life has lost its meaning...
their sparkling crystal song.

The day that you shall love me

That's the ecstasy
the songbird
of communication.
will pluck his sweetest strings;

All secrets, spaces and scenes

abolished life everywhere

will bloom,
in a single dimension of information.
and pain will cease to be...

The night that you shall love
That's me

from the deepest blue of heaven

The hot, sexual obscenity of the galaxies
with envy former times
is succeeded by the cold will

watch us as we stroll,

and a mysterious
and communicational, aura
will nest upon your head crown,

like an exotic
contactual and motivational glow-worm
revealing... you,

obscenity of today...
my only consolation!

* All text in italics are from my translation of the song "El Día que me Quieras" by Carlos Gardel and Alfredo Lepera (1934).

All other text is by Jean Baudrillard, from L'autre par lui-meme, Paris: Editions Galilee (1987); translated by Bernard and Caroline Schutze as The Ecstasy of Communication, NY: Semiotext(e) (1988); and from Please Follow Me with Sophie Calle, Seattle: Bay Press (1983, 1988). "What Are You Doing After the Orgy?" In Artforum (October 1983) in "The Ecstasy of Communication," translated by John Johnston in Hal Foster, ed., In The Anti-Aesthetic: Essays on Postmodern Culture, Port Townsend, WA: Bay Press (1983).

@ /cual (2006)

contact: Pascual Delgado:
pascual (dot) delgado (at) accesss (dot) net

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