- Nemesia 7: Questions of Neutrality by Steve J. Fowler & Patrick Savolainen
Questions of Neutrality
neutralität ist der eisvogel in der hand sein hübsches kleid
hände:
1.
klingelingeling vor der tür hält das wiesel
ein zigarettenschächtelchen voller praller
monde bereit und unterm augenlid das
gentlemannsche angebot wenigstens den
einen hinter die gardinen zu hängen fünf
pfund sterling und ins trockene bachbett
liebe fliesst wieder zünftig lebensstrom
bloss den liebsten brauchst du auszuwechseln
a) danke mir durstet grad nicht
b) bitte ein gläschen um den faulen geruch ausm mund zu spülen
You walk into a house, perhaps it is your house
and none of the dishes have been done.
The bedroom is plastered. There are clothes everywhere, in every awful corner.
It has all been paid for.
There is a weasel, its dead of course, taxidermied, eating your cigarettes.
They remain rowed up like bodies in their case.
Naturally your eyelids twitch.
You notice the underwear is all dirty. But it is dry now.
There are fake five quid notes in your fridge.
And the person you thought you loved, who has never loved you,
has bought you a soda stream machine.
You have a blue slush puppy in your hand.
Happy birthday.
Do you A, clean up
or B, burn the house down.
2.
ein ziemliches wetter galoppiert über den
abendlichen frühlingshimmel im futteral
sucht der kutscher nach dokumenten (das
stöbern von fingern in wolkigem papier
klicken der druckknöpfe) hinter ihm fahren
hoch und tief regelrecht aus der geduld ins
ungemach feierabend wochenende den
druckgebieten brennt allmählich die kehle
da siehst du neben dir den passierschein
im froschteich spiegeln und du entschliesst dich:
a) für den kutscher in die bresche und also zu den fröschen zu springen
b) die wetterfee ihre launen spielen lassen was kümmern dich kleinbauern
You are travelling. There has been a question, a ticking of a boxxx.
Do you journey for work, or for leisure?
You think, inevitably, about how simple the world would be if you could separate the two.
And then it occurs to you
you no longer know what the latter means.
Leisure. It sounds menacing to you now.
A concept with faint smells of totalitarianism.
But what you don’t know is you’re thinking that because you are a soft blurt.
A moaner.
You have read too much and been pampered so hard that you no longer realise how easy your breakfast is.
What gradually burns your throat is a lozenge of love of others. To most.
Your weather is patient, your pressure is light.
Your frog plays fair with the whims of small farmers and other peasants.
Your barely know what work means, so how could you understand leisure?
Do you, A, journey inward
or B, keep pretending, as you munch your pills, this is all working out for you
3.
wer bin ich wer bin ich seit tagen suchst
du nach sinn oder wenigstens sinnen
im bistrotwagen faltet der passionierte
asket saumpfade ins tischtuch und die
fromme hooliganese demontiert im
handumdrehen das abteil du wählst:
a) stehe unberührt wähle keinen weg
b) verstehe die weichen sind gestellt ich bestelle
You’re sixteen and you hear about existentialism from Sasha Grey.
Only you’re not sixteen, you’re 35 and you’re messing around with other people’s lives.
You are attractive only because you are old.
What you are is neither fair, nor neutral, so you have a decision to make.
You hold your face in your hand in the car park of a place that calls itself a bistrot.
It is the midlands, so you hear a man in a raincoat say Bistrott.
You check your phone and contribute to a charity which saves donkeys.
You passionately no longer think what you once thought,.
You wish you hadn’t come to the festival.
You have lots of other things to do.
do you, A, remain still
or B subscribe to the mailing list
4.
ein kleiner gott zupft am ärmel sag
wem schenkst du deinen eifer mir
nicht wie mir scheint wem schenkst
du deine zweifel mir nicht wie mir
scheint wie isst du deine tausend
jährigen eier und mit wem?:
a) wie äpfel in spalten kein besonderes zeremoniell
b) allein mit den farben
You didn’t mean it, but now you are a little god and you’re well sick.
Your horse is watching you phone the zoo.
It is eating apples with zeal and laying its thousand year old eggs.
You used to think she, your horse, was half alright
but then she made you feel that she wasn’t just a means of transport.
do you, A, ride into battle, because neutrality in the face of oppression is cowardice?
or B, start a glue factory.
5.
adler dir einen himmel
verblasster gedanken
der abend hat pfirsiche
gepachtet du bist ein
frekventierer von bars
und bibliotheken steigst
waidmännisch durchs
städtische flirren von
punkt zu punkt europas
mark europas märkte
europas waschsalons
antikvare kioske und
backssteinreihenhäuser
agnus dei die wirtin
serviert nachschlag
wie du fragebögen
ausfüllst neutral genug
dich um neutralität
nicht kümmern zu
müssen was spittelen
dich meinungen was
juckt dich politik der
abend hat pfirsiche
gepachtet und der
morgen reicht uns
rosinen
a) _______________
b) _______________
You are an eagle of pure beauty.
That is – you eat the sky of
fading thoughts
but do not know
what the word
aquiline means.
The sky is not neutral.
It is owned, and it is full.
Of planes, of other birds,
of kites, and drones,
and maybe, depending on your postcode,
missiles.
You rail against the closure of libraries
but never use one.
You rail against the closure of a continent
but never use one
Is metaphor neutral?
Does it depend on the content, or not? You wonder.
What you know is this
you are neutral enough
to still be alive,
to say do not worry
to have to spit
on fruit
to clean it.
do you a) _______________
or do you b) _______________
Steven J Fowler
SJ Fowler is a writer, poet and artist who lives in London.
His work has been commissioned by Tate Modern, BBC Radio 3, Somerset House, Tate Britain, the London Sinfonietta, Kettle’s Yard, UNESCO, Whitechapel Gallery, Southbank Centre, National Centre for Writing, National Poetry Library, Science Museum and Liverpool Biennial amongst others.
