Leni and Fritz

Friday, September 04, 2015
M. S. O'Shaughnessy

(extract, Lakeland)  


... By this time, in his late thirties, all those thoughts have

moulded Fritz into someone who really only feels himself

            when thinking of someone else.

He continues to concentrate himself neatly

            in the smaller spaces of his memory. He can turn his mind slightly

            to veil some of the severity. A creative gift.


            The years move very fast. He continues to neatly concentrate himself

                        in the smaller spaces of his memory. In his head

            he carries fragments

            so precious

                        that the wounds attached have more of a scar quality –

                        a kind of piecemeal arrangement of sensate images

            painted from the inside. No,

                        more like projected from the inside.

            The living screen of a man’s life, which sometimes shines

            in the dark. What does he see? He has visions

            that seem to forebode his death. As he stares

                        out to the vast nothingness of the ocean, pictures

                                    quiver and dissolve, pouring out

            through his black eyes...

    



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