b.z. niditch | alfred jarry's escape


Not yet sleeping
in the Paris cafe
opening early
you caught me
red nosed
with a blanket
of pantomime
dreaming of your plays
on words masked
in slender disguises,
a masked marionette
with a cartridge belt
behind pink eyes
puts on cold cream
on her legs,
soon in Ubu roi
power, greed, class
jumps out as props
in a forerunner
of the surreal
and the complacent
bourgeoisie are exposed
and we escape
with Jarry.

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