#565 L'Invitée

He slept badly. Woke half-
way through the night &,
though no one had asked
him to, threw the window
out the window. It hung



there, waiting for more
instructions. He had no-
thing further to add, just
wondered why the room
had suddenly become cold.

#564 Dawn in the Antipodes (2)

If you accept at first, & any unforeseen
event keeps you from fulfilling your 
engagement, write a second note, this 
in naïve handwriting, neither precisely 
the work's title nor one of its pictorial 

elements. If circumstances render it 
necessary to write, it may be sent with
perfect propriety an hour before the 
time appointed. But this is still only 
the least of the ambiguities. There are 

two pipes. Or rather must we not say, 
two drawings of the same pipe? It is 
well to carry in your pocket a small
pincushion, &, having unfolded it, to 
pin it at the belt, else it will be very apt

to slip down, if your dress is of silk or
satin. This "lower" pipe is wedged 
solidly in a space of visible reference 
points. On the other hand, the higher 
pipe lacks coordinates. If, by the 

carelessness or awkwardness of your 
neighbors or the servants,  the pipe 
floats behind the painting & the easel, 
more gigantic than it appears, then 
let it pass without any further notice.

Sources:
This Is Not a Pipe, by Michel Foucault
The Ladies’ Book of Etiquette (1860), by Florence Hartley

#563 Dialogue Revealed by the Wind

A wind, a cold wind has come
Arthur Miller: The Crucible
"Nakedness has a way of showing
itself," she said. "If not the wind, then
some other act of nature. Though is it
natural that we should be standing
here, headless, legless, words that
usually describe some condition of
drunkeness? & is standing the right
word to use when we have nothing
left to really let us stand?" The other
two might have nodded in agree-
ment, had they not been beheaded 
& now had nothing left to nod with.

#562 Waking Windows

(A Tom Beckett Title)


Judging by the size of the
promotional photos, Palehound 
& Cut Worms are the headline
acts at this year's final WW music, 
art, comedy, food, & drink festival 
in Winooski, Vermont. Elsewhere
someone asks: "What is a paw-
paw?" while they're enjoying
drag queen hour which includes
getting their face painted. & over-
seas, at the European Parliament,
#TheLightsStayOn, a photo ex-
hibition presenting powerful 
stories of people from Ukraine,
draws inspiration from René 
Magritte’s L’état de veille (The 
Waking State), where glowing 
windows appear in the sky 
among drifting clouds. So, to 
stop Windows waking up from 
sleep on its own, the last band 
will wrap up around 10 p.m.

Three poems from Series Magritte at YouTube

via The Continental Review





Read by Miia Toivio & with graphics by Marko Niemi

#561 La Clef de Songes

We dance. Either by
moon- or candlelight.

We dance, The snow be-
gins to fall. I put on my

bowler hat, you make sure
your shoes are on tight.

We dance, on the ceiling,
treat the snow as if it were

the sands of the desert &
we under acacia trees.

We dance until a thunder-
storm comes hammering

along. I eat an egg. You
drink a glass of water.

We dream.

#560 Self-portrait (1923)

In the 1920s, the bowler
hat was everywhere. But
here, no sign of it. Still
some years to go before
it featured in his work,
appearing first as a de-
tective's derby, then
falling silent. Some de-
cades later returned, a
burst of energy, 50 or
60 times over the final
years — excluding that
flash mob assemblage
outside the window in
Golconda. A process by
which the anonymity of
the headgear become the
identifying component of
the Mr. Everyman persona
& of which, each time it app-
eared, the painter noted ceci
n'est pas un autoportrait.

#559 L'éternité (2)

Dante, Christ, &
a wheel of butter
in the middle. I
doubt that any of
these would keep
me happy for
eternity, not unless
there was something 
else to go with them.

Though I must admit
I sense something 
miraculous in the
line-up. Given that
the two busts are
somewhat crusty
with age, how does
the butter manage
to stay so fresh?

#558 Le Chant des Sirènes

Now that he has reached
the beach, he no longer
needs the candle to show
the way. The sea has called
to him — no, not the sea,
but the dwellers on some
islands situated in it. Un-
able to be seen, only barely
able to be heard; but the
song has resonances that
float above the water. Soon
he will look for a boat he
can hire, to take him close
to the source of the song.
Will take that green leaf he 
has brought with him on 
his journey from the interior
in the hope he will have a
funeral casket to lay it on.

#557 The Rights of Man (2)

So many internal refer-
ences — that euphonium
on fire; a meteorite, though
not suspended but resting
on the ground; a cloaked
cicerone; the seaside wall.

& that just a sample of what
the nooks & crannies of the
creative mind may contain. 
Not strictly bricolage; more a
selection from what lies be-
hind the world around. Not

often everyday things, but
when they are, are taken out
of context, made fresh. Is
patently obvious that man — 
or woman — has the right to 
ignore copyright should they

choose to do so. Change the
surroundings to new & often 
personal worlds. Replace the
signatures. Call the familiar
by another name. Raise the
bowler hat. Salute the clouds. 

#556 Dawn in the Antipodes

If a statement appears monstrous 
but you do not know that it is false, 
listen, but do not question its vera-
city. What misleads us is the inevit-
ability of connecting the text to the 

drawing. It is not enough that the 
drawing of the pipe so closely re-
sembles a pipe. The letters are but 
the image of letters. Never by word 
or action notice the defects of another — 

naïve handwriting, the absence of any
other trace of the artist's presence. The 
story interrupted at every sentence. It 
reveals discourse's ambiguous power 
to deny. To take any sentence from 

the mouth of another person, before 
he has time to utter it, is the height 
of ill-breeding. To paint is not to af-
firm. Perhaps a swipe of a rag will
soon erase the drawing & the text .

Sources:
This Is Not a Pipe, by Michel Foucault
The Ladies’ Book of Etiquette (1860), by Florence Hartley