excerpts from the circumferences of a cry


with the brass
in which your hips sway
at every moment held back

with the choked shudder of asphyxia

with the alphabet of tears
that mold to sharp-edged paths
with the distillation
of an entire life in the cemetery
in silence


you search through inertia
waiting, withdrawn
worthy of blame

because solitude presses on your life
this fear of being recognized

of being
what you despise


your free museum of horrors
proposes sulphur
and furrows

hints to the administration
of survival

your naked fracture
in the underground's


skin covered
with confetti and
fresh cream

desire gathers
its farthest points with flesh
excised of embraces


stop wringing your hands
gesticulating the silence
that eats away at you

steel and flame
poured over the same body

a body under attack

tricked even so far as a name
engraved in an intimate place
identifies itself with the terms
of exhaustion


at the motel of scars

intimate blood
announces silence

rain tastes of bitter metal
it is dark down to where
ligaments submit
to the whirling of bolts

- Martin Pouliot, translation by Maxianne Berger