{"id":13946,"date":"2015-12-24T11:57:29","date_gmt":"2015-12-24T15:57:29","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/?p=13946"},"modified":"2015-12-24T11:57:29","modified_gmt":"2015-12-24T15:57:29","slug":"claude-pelieu-poet-collagist-extraordinaire","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/claude-pelieu-poet-collagist-extraordinaire\/","title":{"rendered":"Claude P\u00e9lieu, poet & collagist extraordinaire…"},"content":{"rendered":"


\n<\/a>\"pelieu<\/a>…left us on this day, 13 years ago. Which I suddenly realized as this morning I set to gather\u00a0a dossier on his work for an issue of a French magazine (L’Homme sans \u00e9paules) to be published in the summer of 2016. \u00a0Here, in my English translation, a poem from the late sixties, from the volume Jukeboxes<\/i>:<\/p>\n

Good-bye tristesse, hello tristesse \u2013 we are in Paradise
\n<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0& the dead laugh their heads off,
\n<\/span>I\u2019m returning from heaven,\u00a0 <\/span>can tell you all about it \u2013 I took
\n<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0the space train and landed in the oasis of
\n<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0American colors.
\n<\/span>The window-washers\u2019 scaffolding sang, but the cold
\n<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0scissors of the carrion-man had handed themselves
\n<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0over to the cops & excited the man<\/span>\u00a0 with dysentery and
\n<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0supermarket eyes who prints the slogans of the day
\n<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0on my sky.
\n<\/span>Death was wearing a crime-colored n\u00e9glig\u00e9 \u2013 the fetuses were
\n<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0invading the external screens & the grammatical teats
\n<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0of nostalgia were pissing sulfur.
\n<\/span>I plunged into their urban nature, this jungle of smells
\n<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0and sounds.
\n<\/span>What world is this? Who finances it? To whom was it sold?
\n<\/span>It was sold for a handful of coarse salt between 2 smirks and 3
\n<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Dog\u2019s barks — & the oppressed were fighting for their masters
\n<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0& their eyes were oozing under their masks of fake flesh.
\n<\/span>(What would you be guilty of? Of everything? Of nothing? ) everybody
\n<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0winds up riffing thus in the empty streets.
\n<\/span>Millions of you are slipping and sliding, the images slip hard by you,
\n<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0wound you or enchant you \u2013
\n<\/span>The Dead have invaded Earth,
\n<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0their fingers search the loam & a pale poisoned fog hangs
\n<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0over Wall Street.
\nOh Manhattan, Island devoured\u00a0 <\/span>by grief, Indian island where today the
\n<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Images print out the Journal of Shame & Fear.
\n<\/span>The skin flicks are full up \u2013 Get out of this bronze forest! Drop everything!
\nHeat up the glue! Don\u2019t run over the blacks! Don\u2019t step on the Indians!
\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Don\u2019t let the words settle in! Don\u2019t let the children croak in the
\n<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Supermarket-bunker!
\n<\/span>The comic strips & the advertisements stumble over\u00a0 <\/span>the film stock of
\n<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0your asses,<\/span>a distant air of burning scorpions peels off the rotten trunk
\n<\/span>of History \u2013
\n<\/span>For us the adversary is Death, Money, Hate & War (Death & all the old
\n<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0clich\u00e9s & all the horrible death rattles).
\n<\/span>One wakes up in another world with a bad taste between\u00a0 <\/span>the legs.
\n<\/span>It\u2019s over. The show\u2019s over and done with. The slave words are
\n<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0being noisy in the service staircase, like the fascist foam
\n<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0on the airwaves.
\n<\/span>A return to the past so as not to bother anybody \u2013 a jungle of curtains
\n<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0light years that stutter,
\n<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0imaged crowds stuffing themselves with cosmic shot \u2013 a trigger\u2019s
\n<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0already thought too quickly \u2013 Goodbye sadness, hello tristesse.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

…left us on this day, 13 years ago. Which I suddenly realized as this morning I set to gather\u00a0a dossier on his work for an issue of a French magazine (L’Homme sans \u00e9paules) to...<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[32,830,91,1],"tags":[247],"class_list":["post-13946","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-collage","category-poet","category-poetry","category-uncategorized","tag-claude-pelieu"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13946","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=13946"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13946\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":13955,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/13946\/revisions\/13955"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=13946"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=13946"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pierrejoris.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=13946"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}