Those various rusts,
orange brown
loose,
no place
where hem
ends,
thigh begins,
burning.
Life’s cruelty,
Artaud conceives;
still here,
staged stills;
still,
succeeding presentations.
Cruelty:
killed, is the former;
the latter:
now.
Fateful splendour’s
short shrift cat-walk;
so many deaths
follow the/her,
fast flaps at the stairs;
each’s, still its
re-presentation,
also
to pass,
in step with time,
and her ascent;
Artaud’s “theatre
of the cruel”
shows Duchamp’s
‘nude’, alone, performing
disconn/reconnectednesses
descending the stairs…
–many dyings/re-presentations
shewing the
movement of descent
in the, still, artwork.