feared well well that in this part I may be not extinguished no that is not
said that is not yet in my composition no dimmed what is said is dimmed before I flare
up Pim gone even more lively if that is possible than before we met more what is the
word more lively there’s nothing better the man who has only to appear and no ears
no eyes for anyone else too strong as always yes to be feared my part now the utilityman’s
my part who but for me he would never Pim we’re talking of Pim never be but for me
anything but a dumb limp lump flat for ever in the mud but I’ll quicken him you wait
and see and how I can efface myself behind my creature when the fit takes me now my
nails
quick a supposition if this so-called mud were nothing more than all our shit yes
all if there are not billions of us at the moment and why not the moment there are
two there were yes billions of us crawling and shitting in their shit hugging like
a treasure in their arms the wherewithal to crawl and shit a little more now my nails
my nails well to mention only the hands not to mention that eastern sage they were
in a sorry state that extreme eastern sage who having clenched his fists from the
tenderest age it’s vague till the hour of his death it is not said at what age having
done that
the hour of his death at what age it is not said was enabled to see them at last a
little before his nails his death having pierced the palms through and through was
enabled to see them emerging at last on the other side and a little later having thus lived done this done that
clenched his fists all his life thus lived died at last saying to himself latest breath
that they’d grow on
the curtains parted part one I saw his friends come to visit him where squatting in
the deep shade of a tomb or a bo his fists clenched on his knees he lived thus
they broke for want of chalk or suchlike but not in concert so that some my nails
we’re talking of my nails some always long others presentable I saw him dreaming the
mud parted the light went on I saw him dreaming with the help of a friend or failing
that boon all alone of bending them back to the back of his hand for them to go through
the other way death forestalled him
Pim’s right buttock then first contact he must have heard them grate there’s a noble
past I could have dug them in if I had wished I longed claw dig deep furrows drink
the screams the blue the violent shade the turbaned head bowed over the fists the
circle of friends in their white dhotis without going that far
the cries tell me which end the head but I may be mistaken with the result all hangs
together that the hand slides right and there to be sure there’s the fork it’s as
I thought then back left just the same just to clinch it and there to be sure there’s
the arse again then oh without tarrying down in a hollow then guided by stump of thumb
on spine on up to the floating ribs that clinches it the anatomy I had no point in
insisting further his cries continue that clinches it this won’t work in the past
either I’ll never have a past never had
good a fellow-creature more or less but man woman girl or boy cries have neither certain
cries sex nor age I try to turn him over on his back no the right side still less
the left less still my strength is ebbing good good I’ll never know Pim but on his
belly
all that I say it as I hear it every word always and that having rummaged in the mud
between his legs I bring up finally what seems to me a testicle or two the anatomy
I had
as I hear it and murmur in the mud that I hoist myself if I may say so a little forward
to feel the skull it’s bald no delete the face it’s preferable mass of hairs all white
to the feel that clinches it he’s a little old man we’re two little old men something
wrong there
in the dark the mud my head against his my side glued to his my right arm round his
shoulders his cries
said that is not yet in my composition no dimmed what is said is dimmed before I flare
up Pim gone even more lively if that is possible than before we met more what is the
word more lively there’s nothing better the man who has only to appear and no ears
no eyes for anyone else too strong as always yes to be feared my part now the utilityman’s
my part who but for me he would never Pim we’re talking of Pim never be but for me
anything but a dumb limp lump flat for ever in the mud but I’ll quicken him you wait
and see and how I can efface myself behind my creature when the fit takes me now my
nails
quick a supposition if this so-called mud were nothing more than all our shit yes
all if there are not billions of us at the moment and why not the moment there are
two there were yes billions of us crawling and shitting in their shit hugging like
a treasure in their arms the wherewithal to crawl and shit a little more now my nails
my nails well to mention only the hands not to mention that eastern sage they were
in a sorry state that extreme eastern sage who having clenched his fists from the
tenderest age it’s vague till the hour of his death it is not said at what age having
done that
the hour of his death at what age it is not said was enabled to see them at last a
little before his nails his death having pierced the palms through and through was
enabled to see them emerging at last on the other side and a little later having thus lived done this done that
clenched his fists all his life thus lived died at last saying to himself latest breath
that they’d grow on
the curtains parted part one I saw his friends come to visit him where squatting in
the deep shade of a tomb or a bo his fists clenched on his knees he lived thus
they broke for want of chalk or suchlike but not in concert so that some my nails
we’re talking of my nails some always long others presentable I saw him dreaming the
mud parted the light went on I saw him dreaming with the help of a friend or failing
that boon all alone of bending them back to the back of his hand for them to go through
the other way death forestalled him
Pim’s right buttock then first contact he must have heard them grate there’s a noble
past I could have dug them in if I had wished I longed claw dig deep furrows drink
the screams the blue the violent shade the turbaned head bowed over the fists the
circle of friends in their white dhotis without going that far
the cries tell me which end the head but I may be mistaken with the result all hangs
together that the hand slides right and there to be sure there’s the fork it’s as
I thought then back left just the same just to clinch it and there to be sure there’s
the arse again then oh without tarrying down in a hollow then guided by stump of thumb
on spine on up to the floating ribs that clinches it the anatomy I had no point in
insisting further his cries continue that clinches it this won’t work in the past
either I’ll never have a past never had
good a fellow-creature more or less but man woman girl or boy cries have neither certain
cries sex nor age I try to turn him over on his back no the right side still less
the left less still my strength is ebbing good good I’ll never know Pim but on his
belly
all that I say it as I hear it every word always and that having rummaged in the mud
between his legs I bring up finally what seems to me a testicle or two the anatomy
I had
as I hear it and murmur in the mud that I hoist myself if I may say so a little forward
to feel the skull it’s bald no delete the face it’s preferable mass of hairs all white
to the feel that clinches it he’s a little old man we’re two little old men something
wrong there
in the dark the mud my head against his my side glued to his my right arm round his
shoulders his cries
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