Neither Name Nor Snow: Ingrid Storholmen Translation: Teji Grover 1. From “Skamtalen.Graceland” 2005
Have you nothing to say? – nothing to say You do not exist? – do not exist May I see you? – see you See me? – see me Your body, it is gone? – is gone Must you be filled by others? – filled by others You do not exist alone – alone Are you lonely? – lonely Do you not feel ashamed? – ashamed ashamed shamed Punished for talking too much – 2. From “Krypskyttarloven” 2001
You shall find the name of the snow I go from snowdrift to snowdrift: what is your name, little hailstone I have gathered so many names, pretty names like Tankanama, Lendale, Ormadatina, Finkalatala, Jutipanano, Shibboleth I have written the names on small, white pieces of paper that fall from my pocket; I can see them in the snow they are hard to distinguish: white on white on my eye How can I tell the paper with the name from the snow but suddenly I find something: neither name nor snow Covered by winter without betraying a single colour
3. From “Skamtalen. Graceland” 2005
My shame has a problem with me I don’t want to be ashamed, says the writing I want to write your dick into me
I shall be celebrated on the Day of Shame I feel what is written
everybody is leaving are you coping with your life shame’s slave Even the betrayal betrays you then Descendant of someone that somebody was ashamed of Left by someone left, oneself a leaver
green, aching. Gaping and shut, F i lth and remains:
Traces of phrases, claims, degree of reliability
Phrases in rolls around my belly Someone might have laughed, they laughed, so laughable to believe, to imagine The couple isn’t complete. One is missing. You. I? That’s how it must be That’s close to how it was
I cannot possibly describe it Why am I lying?
Are you a dog? No. Yes. A bitch in the heat, with large protruding teats for you to lick Bite off my teats and swallow! Are you fantasizinges of fucking a dog? Here I am with a smelly tongue and hole
Here I come to savage you with my shame growl! Later on: The carcass of a dog far off the road, where it hid away to die only the row of teeth to tell of the predator boiling eyes
Are you still here, voyeur? I thought I had chased you by now
Cleansing the eyes Cryptobiotic state. Overgrown incubator I don’t want you, because you want me
It is no PROCESS, I don’t want to edit myself. “I am”
No When she was shameless I was ashamed to be ashamed conjuring the shame
No! Prowling on two feet and one hand, a stinking bastard Had I had a little shame I would never have written
Everybody has seen me by now it is way too late to be human too late to get quiet
Burning myself to get warm enough to live
I meet you again and continue to rage You rip me apart at the very same place I cut myself up: my mouth, what I am and the silence I lost
rain: Orfiril, stilnokt, imovane remeron,
White. Anaesthesia. Water. Tablets floating. Pearls. White chains. Plastic. Must shine not speak. Posit myself as my own sculpture. To say is not to say, kiss me, lip. “Fade away, within” White is a sound (that I associate with you What is white to you?
Most people are familiar with the term cortisone, which is really an old fashioned word for cortisol, the hormone produced by the adrenal cortex in times of stress. In higher doses, cortisol has potent anti-inflammatory properties, making it a very useful medication. Because of this property, cortisol has been synthetically improved so as to provide an entire family of glucocorti
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