1917-1935

The Tale of the Three Decanters the Three Little Clocks and the Little Table

once upon a time there were three decanters
the first was amiable
the second was invisible
and the third was straw
their heads looked like the tongue of the minute
that never manages to pay its day and its night
to the last cent

twice upon a time there were three little red clocks
that would grate the minutes into a gray powder
the little red clocks grated zealously
as the dawn grates its sheep
"the first drop of honey that drops
on the pallet of the earth
is for me"
said the first decanter
"neither big nor little"
said the first little red clock
"neither in nor out"
said the second little red clock
"neither round nor square"
said the third little red clock
"i'll never answer tick-tock again"
said the fourth little red clock
"the children walking through the countryside
keep on saying tick-tock"
said the fifth little red clock derisively
"the continents have no right to say tick-tock"
said the sixth little red clock annoyed
"the light has lost its crust"
said the second decanter

once upon a time there was a little table
in which blood circulated
on this little table there grew a vase
the vase would hurl hearts into space
from the mouths of these hearts clocks came flying
and they would ring
a harp passed before the little table
in profile it looked like water and in fullface like air
it sang
"the landscapes are far away
where is the echo humble servant
let us drink black milk
let us drink black milk

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