Living, as in waiting for an end (Stein Poem)
They want narrative in writing.
Not detaching from anything or thinking.
This will take a description.
First you think in narrative and this is one.
It is a narrative of what you will think.
These things that you have to say come to stay.
Why. Think before and then you have it already.
Then think of everything I am writing.
Think less in words and less about play I say.
Then think of any difference between these.
And so detach yourselves from it.
It’s nothing. It’s the same thing.
Now let’s write everything.
Perhaps the crime stories of everything.
Think of two things that are exciting.
Adult letter writing words.
Adult letter writing really.
Think of anything while standing very still.
That thing Americans did. Let’s make them do that.
Now think of anything that connects.
What that is.
That makes it poetry.
But narrative is what went on and goes on.
You have to know what went on.
The outside and I came.
We did that together for a century.
That was and I am cutting loose from that.
Now they want the narrative in the present.
This is all very well something this is.
Really soothing. This is happening. Oh why.
So they are not there. And feeling completed.
Then we got tired of it.
Composed with jGnoetry and the following source texts:
Gertrude Stein, Narration: Four Lectures