by tsipi keller
Desert Storm, an Infrared Dream
On January 17, 1991 I woke up at 02:45 from a neo-surreal dream with a slight not very serious feeling of suffocation a pre-asthma attack instantly stifled with the inhalation of
Ventolin and of two atmospheres
of a home model oxygen tank and at once switched on the lights annoying Dafni who was
trying to sleep
and I told her give me a break the war is on the Americans are bombing the hell out of
Iraq
and in spite of her protests I turned on the radio and then the TV and followed the action till morning and thereafter until the end of the strike together with the Air Force and the
television crews and CNN
and as I began to type away after Dafni had urged me to document the dream patience
details to come
the electric typewriter went dead in the middle of the sentence and for a moment I feared
some electric disturbance but the socket was soon fixed
and what I dreamed was directly connected a situation had developed having to do with
value judgments regarding x-ray/ infra-red images
of previous dreams and the balance of images indicated a certain defect in the holistic
wholeness of justice
which presumably originated in a certain power-play in which I was involved directly or
indirectly and I insisted
on printing the rest of the images in order to complete the picture and relieve myself of
some doubts
about the multifaceted network of my dreams in the days preceding Desert Storm and all
the preparations and intentions and directions
and now Dafni is on the phone with Tamar regarding some minor insignificant one-time
orgiastic episode
after she'd spoken excitedly with her sister Shevi the two of them write poetry but Dafni
also illustrates and will do well financially
but it can't be helped the female now is out of the picture the male is up in the air on the
ground in American Air Force bases in Saudi Arabia
and in the bases of the Israeli Air Force great joy peer solidarity mixed with a smidgen of
frustration tactical appraisal the envy of horny pilots
coveting the situation in the skies of Baghdad dying to be up there since midnight or take
off even now at 06:30 and it is quite clear
that if the Israeli Air Force had taken the mission upon itself the operation would have
been just as swift elegant and deadly
and for all taxi cabs it is business as usual all transmission devices active anyone who
wants to come see me male or female is invited
to an orgy to a séance to an acid trip to World War Three to anything that gives you a
high a hard-on and brings females back into the male worldview
that lands and takes off and lands and takes off and lands and takes off like the in and out
of a giant virile dick up in the heavens
and this is the end of the dream and the beginning of awakening and the beginning of the
new world and the right order on a confused planet
ten years before the end of the century and its beginning and thirty minutes before 07:00
and an hour after
the call of the muezzin and the morning prayers and the War Room at Hakirya and the
global and the Israeli communication satellites
and Dafni and I here and Shevi alone at home and Tamar who cannot attain the heights
of the act with Yossi the bum
but what's one to do when there's no one else you take in anyone for if you have no one
better let there be at least someone
because the stiff weapons are up there so let there be at least one dick down below just in
case
because carnage brings on the carnal and the carnal brings on the carnage and the two of
them together in one bed lesbian love[1]
in Chinese yin and yang and on American waterbeds and on Israeli-made mattresses in
Tel Aviv
but what are small individual orgasms compared with the aerial orgasm in the skies of the
Middle East
so he who finishes inside finishes inside and he who finishes outside finishes outside and
he who finishes Baghdad finishes Baghdad
[1] In Hebrew, “lochma” (warfare/carnage) and “yochama” (horny/carnal) are feminine nouns.
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The poem "Desert Storm, an Infrared Dream" by David Avidan appears in FUTUREMAN, a volume of Selected Poems by Avidan in my translation, and forthcoming from Phoneme Media in June 2017. http://www.phonememedia.org/futureman/
Love this. One of the most effective use of paragraphing I've come across. Uses the downward eye scan of poetry, yet never loses its prose feeling. Great flow, great connectivity between the strands. Double star for this.
Harrowing and eloquent.*
Formally exciting.
*
Thank you Eamon Byrne, Jill Chan, Bill Yarrow!