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Thursday, April 18, 2013


And this is another Poems-For-All booklet from the generous gift of curator Richard Hansen! This mini-book features a witty short story entitled EDOUARD'S NOSE by Greg Boyd: 

Because the interior just features the text, I thought I'd just replicate the text here for easier reading.  Here it is--enjoy reading! 
Edouard doesn't have a head. A torso and limbs, but no head. Facial features in the middle of his back. He smokes a pipe, which he keeps in his mouth most of th etime because it's awkward for him to reach his arms around to the middle of his back. "Ceci n'est pas une pipe," painted Magritte, an allusion to the idea that symbol does not necessarily correspond to the actual physical reality it's intended to represent. Same goes for the word nose and for the name Edouard, etc.

So much for background information. One day Edouard decided to take a walk. He put his nose on a leash and set out for the park. By the artificial lake he shared a bench with a woman with only one leg. "May I pet your nose?" she asked.

"Certainly," he replied, "but be careful, he's not always nice. Would you like a Kleenex?" he added, taking one out of the box he carried with him."

"No, thanks, I'm on a diet," she said, so he ate it himself as she stroked his nose. "Nice nose," she said when it dripped on her hand.

She caught him staring at her missing leg, though there was nothing to stare at. "It's an old football injury," she explained, pointing at the nothing. "By the way, if you don't mind, if it's not too personal, what happened to your head?"

"Problem with my nose. Complications in surgery. Had to amputate," Edouard sighed and lit his pipe. "Dreadful business."

They talked like this for several minutes. By chance they met again in the same place the next day. In time they became lovers. She started wearing more revealing clothes and got her nose pierced. He took up Tarot card reading as an exotic hobby. They rode nude together on a bicycle on the streets of Paris in the morning. They both claimed to have a total disregard for symbols.

Neither of the two would admit to being in love. "Love my nose," said Edouard. Socially they were a big hit. It was fashionable to be seen at the same restaurants as Edouard and Edouardetta. Everyone ordered boiled nose. That was before the war when nose was still plentiful.

 Isn't it a fun read?  Here's an image of the front and back covers of this 1 5/8" x 2" mini-book:

The back cover features Poems-For-All's vision:

scattered around town -- on buses,
trains, cabs, in restrooms, bars, left
along with the tip; stuffed into a
 stranger's back pocket. Whatever. Wherever.

And now, where shall we "shelve" EDOUARD'S NOSE?  Well, it's such a playful piece that I thought to shelve it on a toy chair, a cheerful rocker

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