Paratext #33 by Michael Lawton

Paratext #33
January 30th 2019
by Michael Lawton

Marit Tunestveit Dyre (Short-term residence)
Laura Ige (Interaction lab Grant)
Sofiane Zouggar (Jiser fellowship)
Meriam Ben Amor (Jiser fellowship)
Anna Irina Russell (Jiser grant)

 

The hand throws the stone

Poem as a document, for Paratext#33, Meriam Ben Amor, Laura Ige, Anna Irina Russell, Marit Tunestveit Dyre, Sofiane Zouggar

 

This is the photograph of a heart

 

The hand holds the heart

The fingers tap the rhythm

The heart beats on time

 

The hand recognizes its name

 

The fingers get it right

The sun travels in waves

The hand covers the moon

 

The hand holds a book

 

The hand holds the open book

The finger finds the line inside the book

The finger reads Braille

 

The finger slides to the left

 

The finger caresses a cheek

The finger caresses a cheek in a photograph

The finger caresses a cheek in a photograph on a screen

 

The finger caresses to the right

 

The elbows write a message

To fumble, to steal from yourself, to make out, to leave

Do the finger, put on the finger

 

The hands want to see more

 

Write to me, the bot gives a signal, write to me.

The hands grab the breasts, slide along the dildo

The finger separates the lips, the thumb rests between the buttocks…

 

The hand gives a signal

 

The mirror flashes, the flag flutters

Slit the throat, cut the palm

Fingers on the palm push the palm

 

Now

 

The finger dangles,

Thumbprint unlocks

The button, unlocked, erases

 

The hand points again

 

The radio speaks in static

Fold the message

The hand waves the flag

 

The hand wears gloves

The hand thinks with its fingers

The hand thinks with its thumbs

 

The hand parts the curtain

 

A face is revealed, lips pursed.

The finger rests against the lips, perpendicular to them.

Shaping a cross, silencing the crowd

 

A plant grows between the lips

 

The words grow wild like weeds

They travel on the wind

They fall between the fingers

 

The hand picks up a pen

 

Scratches notes in the dark

The pen writes

Erasing faces from photographs

 

The arm stretches

 

The hand unfolds (whose hand?)

The finger points (whose finger?)

This is where the bomb exploded

 

The hand holds the machine gun

 

Stop the bus

So, we can photograph the passengers

(The hand holding the submachine gun is not in the photograph.)

 

The finger presses the button, the shutter blinks

 

The hand holds the stone

It checks the weight of the stone