An UnchAnging BlUe
Selected PoemS 1962-1975
Rolf dieteR BRinkmAnn
trasa by mar trr
101
Letter to Humphrey Bogart,Already Far Away
Te windowsare allclosed. No door openswhen it rings. Isthis house empty?It’s February, it’sMarch, it’s April: I open thererigerator. No corpse in the house. DearHumphrey Bogartyour vision o theman, who doesn’tlaugh, lonely guestin a house which exists only as a acadein the middle o Beverly Hills. But the glass in the handdoesn’t tremble. It’s May, June, July.It’s August, September, October.No ootsteps in the gravel. Nocorpse in the house. And all the windowsclosed orever ater the singleshot.
117
Artifcial Light
We have pictures which“move,” and the meaningis not just something which isvery bright. Tere are, or example,light bulbs, which disappear inthe darkness, and there isthis pattern o car accidentsand “angst”. A boy liesstretched out naked on theground beneath a hugebrightness and “moves”his hand. Tis boy isme. Te meaning o such a scene is simple. As though in the memory just this single “picture” was real. I “did” thatand later, when I was fnished just this “movement” remained.Seen too closely, the detailsdisappear and become “angst”.
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Excerpts from An Unchanging Blue: Selected Poems 1962-1975 by Rolf Dieter Brinkmann
Includes two poems from the collection and translator Mark Terrill's introduction.
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