from "Sunset Debris" by
Ron Silliman
Can
you feel it? Does it hurt? Is this too soft? Do you like it? Do you like this?
Is this how you like it? Is it airtight? Is he there? Is he breathing? Is it him?
Is it near? Is it hard? Is it cold? Does it weigh much? Is it heavy? Do you
have to carry it far? Are those the hills? Is this where we get off? Which one
are you? Are we there yet? Do we need to bring sweaters? Where is the border
between blue and green? Has the mail come? Have you come yet? Is
it perfect bound? Do you prefer ballpoints? Do you know which insect you
most resemble? Is it the red one? Is that your hand? Want to go out? What
about dinner? What does it cost? Do you speak English? Has he found
his voice yet? Is this anise or is it fennel? Are you high yet? Is your throat
sore? Can’t you tell dill weed when you see it? Do you smell something burning?
Do you hear a ringing sound? Do you hear something whimpering,
mewing, crying? Do we get there from here? Does the ink smear?
Does the paper get yellow and brittle? Do you prefer soft core? Are they
on their way to work? Are they feeling it? Are they locked out? Are you pessimistic?
Are you hard? Is that where you live? Is the sink clogged? Have the
roaches made a nest in the radio? Are the cats hungry, thirsty, tired? Does
he need to have a catheter? Is he the father?
Source of the text - Ron Silliman, The Age of Huts (Compleat). Berkeley: University of California Press, 2007.
TJB: Question-drumming.
With undeniable rhythm and simple constructs—you, we & it—which put meaning
in the direct object, the poem-prose sings.
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