‘The Thing’
There are things human eyes should not see, human ears should not hear. You do not witness certain things even second hand, even a month later with impunity. After visiting the downtown area, I felt feverish and laid down sick, two days after my return home. There was little left of the Port-au-Prince I knew, but rubble and broken buildings, still a few corpses in the streets, whole areas where Godzilla seems to have walked indiscriminately. Monster. Thing, which destroyed my city leaving the ghosts of more than two hundred thousand hidden among the smoke, the debris, the steel dust and sand.
don’t worry about me…
I finally reached her today. Since Tuesday, I had been praying and pressing the redial button on the phone. Redial had not worked, so I was hoping the prayers would. Amidst the desolation and news of relatives who had died and loved ones still unaccounted for, friends had sent a few messages saying they had [...]
"Secrets d’une danseuse de tango…"
La comédienne, Michèle Voltaire Marcelin sur la scène du Théâtre Gesù à Montréal dans "Secrets d’une Danseuse de Tango" de Graciela Lopez, traduit par Jean-Marie Bourjolly. Michele Voltaire Marcelin onstage at the Gesù Theater in Montréal in her adaptation of Graciela Lopez’ text "Secrets of a Tango Dancer", translated to French by Jean-Marie Bourjolly. "Que [...]
krik?krak!
I sat under the palm fronds, safely ensconced in the folds of Manzèlore’s wide skirt that smelled of ti-baume, of fey kowosol and other wild herbs; only a sliver of moon illuminated the sky. Corn crackled as it grilled on an open fire and Manzèlore, the kindest, most generous soul I have ever known, who [...]
talisman
come have a drink he said. he was so much older. and good looking too. i was flattered. come have a drink. a drink was something a woman had. a woman wearing perfume, maybe femme by rochas. my mother wore that, even though my mother did not have drinks with men. not even with my father. my [...]
ars poetica
What to do before the suffering of others? What to do for Haiti, for Palestine, for Irak, for Darfur? What to do for girls forced into prostitution, for women battered, for rape victims, for those without the comfort of home or friends? Peruvian poet César Vallejo writes: “A cripple walks by, giving his arm to [...]
Ma mort
C’est aujourd’hui le 30 mai, le dernier jour du délai fixé par le docteur Salmanazar. Malgré le flou tout blanc qui empêchait les sons aigus de me parvenir, j’avais pu entendre des bribes de phrases “Vraiment désolé Guy. Difficile à dire. Tout faire pour adoucir ses jours. Trois mois peut-être.” Alors j’avais compté. Mars. Avril. [...]
Le cinéma
Trois ans que j’ai laissé ma ville. Ces années ont passé comme un vertige. Après tout un ballet de compromis, je suis partie. J’ai laissé derrière moi ceux qui vivent, à la grâce de Dieu, de soupe de terre et d’eau salée. Quel Dieu permettrait cela? J’ai laissé ceux qui sucent la gelée amère de [...]
De toute eternité
“C’était un amour magnifique et extravagant. Vieux comme le monde. Fluide comme le temps. Lui-même en souriant disait qu’ils s’aimaient depuis deux siècles.Pour elle, n’existait que le temps d’avant lui et celui d’après. Le premier si court qu’il ne lui restait en mémoire que des souvenirs d’enfance. Le second temps rempli de cet évènement. De [...]
Adieu
“On couche toujours avec les morts.” Léo Ferré “Je prends congé des morts, mais pas pour les oublier.” Saramago Parfois, j’ai des nuits empoisonnées de cauchemars… J’erre à travers un grand jardin saccagé par le vent. Des aboiements déchirent le silence. Un chien me poursuit. Un chien noir, pelé, famélique. Il me poursuit et il [...]
The Alchemy of Desire
Love is not the greatest glue between two people. Sex is. Tarun J. Tejpal I would travel up and down her body, inhaling, inhaling,inhaling, hunting her secret source…. The room was dark and my mouth was everywhere and the white cotton she was wearing was crisp and thin and I was firm and insanely in [...]
Mensonge
Ils m’ont menti, ceux qui m’ont dit un jour je serais plus tranquille. Ils m’ont trompée. Rien ne meurt avec l’âge. Ni l’envie d’amour, ni celle des baisers. Et mon coeur fou me fait parfois oublier ce corps encombrant alourdi par les ans. Si facilement séduit pourtant, si passe de trop près, un homme aux [...]
