UN COUP DE DÉS

                              JAMAIS

                                                                                                                 QUAND BIEN MÊME LANCÉ DANS DES CIRCONSTANCES
                                                                                                                           ÉTERNELLES
                                                                                                            DU FOND D’UN NAUFRAGE

                  SOIT
          que
                      l’Abîme
             blanchi
  étale
       furieux
                       sous une inclinaison
       plane désespérément
           d’aile
   la sienne
                                                                                                                 par avance retombée d’un mal à dresser le vol
                                                                                                                   et couvrant les jaillissements
                                                                                                                          coupant au ras les bonds
                                                                                                                          très à l’intérieur résume
                                                                                                              l’ombre enfouie dans la profondeur par cette voile alternative
                                                                                                                         jusqu’adapter
                                                                                                                         à l’envergure
                                                                                                               sa béante profondeur en tant que la coque
                                                                                                       d’un bâtiment
                                                                                                     penché de l’un ou l’autre bord

             LE MAÎTRE
                  surgi
                                                                                                                  hors d’anciens calculs
        inférant
                                                                                                                  où la manœuvre avec l’âge oubliée
                                                                                                                    jadis il empoignait la barre
        de cette conflagration à ses pieds
                                                                                                     de l’horizon unanime
                      que se prépare
                                                                                                                  s’agite et mêle
                                                                                                                au poing qui l’étreindrait
                       comme on menace un destin et les vents
                 l’unique Nombre qui ne peut pas être un autre
                                                                                                                  Esprit
                                                                                                                   pour le jeter
                                                                                                        dans la tempête
                                                                                                             en reployer la division et passer fier
                  hésite
              cadavre par le bras écarté du secret qu’il détient
                     plutôt
     que de jouer
   en maniaque chenu
 la partie
     au nom des flots
                                                                                                                    un envahit le chef
                                                                                                          coule en barbe soumise
                     naufrage cela direct de l’homme
                                                                                                     sans nef
                                                                                                                     n’importe
                                                                                                               où vaine

   ancestralement à n’ouvrir pas la main
                       crispée
         par-delà l’inutile tête
        legs en la disparition
à quelqu’un
                       ambigu
               l’ultérieur démon immémorial
       ayant
     de contrées nulles
       induit
                        le vieillard vers cette conjonction suprême avec la probabilité
     celui
   son ombre puérile
 caressée et polie et rendue et lavée
assouplie par la vague et soustraite
                      aux durs os perdus entre les ais
                né
                 d’un ébat
       la mer par l’aïeul tentant ou l’aïeul contre la mer
             une chance oiseuse
  Fiançailles
                   dont
              le voile d’illusion rejailli leur hantise
                       ainsi que le fantôme d’un geste
   chancellera
        s’affalera
                folie

                          N’ABOLIRA

      COMME SI
                        Une insinuation simple
       au silence enroulée avec ironie
                                                                                                                    ou
                                                                                                                      le mystère
                                                                                                                           précipité
                                                                                                                     hurlé
          dans quelque proche tourbillon d’hilarité et d’horreur
     voltige autour du gouffre
                                                                                                                   sans le joncher
                                                                                                      ni fuir
                                                                                                                         et en berce le vierge indice
                                                                                                              COMME SI

                        plume solitaire éperdue
                                                                                                                  sauf que la rencontre ou l’effleure une toque de minuit
                                                                                                         et immobilise
                                                                                                            au velours chiffonné par un esclaffement sombre
                                                                                                                           cette blancheur rigide
                                                                                                              dérisoire
                                                                                                                     en opposition au ciel
                                                                                                                trop
                                                                                                                        pour ne pas marquer
                                                                                                                exigüment
                                                                                                                 quiconque
                                                                                                                        prince amer de l’écueil
                                                                                                                    s’en coiffe comme de l’héroïque
                                                                                                    irrésistible mais contenu
                                                                                                               par sa petite raison virile
                                                                                                                    en foudre

                    soucieux
expiatoire et pubère
             muet
                                                                                                                             rire
                                                                                                                que
                                                                                                                      SI
    La lucide et seigneuriale aigrette de vertige
                   au front invisible
              scintille
      puis ombrage
                    une stature mignonne ténébreuse debout
         en sa torsion de sirène
                                                                                                                  le temps
                                                                                                              de souffleter
       par d’impatientes squames ultimes bifurquées
                                                                                                                  un roc
                                                                                                                    faux manoir
                                                                                                          tout de suite
                                                                                                           évaporé en brumes
                                                                                                             qui imposa
                                                                                                                  une borne à l’infini

              C'ÉTAIT
            issu stellaire LE NOMBRE
                                                                                                                       EXISTÂT-IL
                                                                                                                             autrement qu’hallucination éparse d’agonie
                                                                                                                          COMMENÇÂT-IL ET CESSÂT-IL
                                                                                                       sourdant que nié et clos quand apparu
                                                                                                                        enfin
                                                                                                      par quelque profusion répandue en rareté
                                                                                                        SE CHIFFRÂT-IL
                                                                                                    évidence de la somme pour peu qu’une
                                                                                                                          ILLUMINÂT-IL
                       CE SERAIT
                 pire
              non
        davantage ni moins
       indifféremment mais autant

                          LE HASARD

                                                                                                    Choit
                                                                                                               la plume
                                                                                                                          rythmique suspens du sinistre
                                                                                                                         s’ensevelir
                                                                                                           aux écumes orginelles
                                                                                                                             naguères d’où sursauta son délire jusqu’à une cime
                                                                                                                          flétrie
                                                                                                                par la neutralité identique du gouffre

                   RIEN
      de la mémorable crise
  ou se fût
                   l’évènement accompli en vue de tout résultat nul
                                                                                                                  humain
                                                                                                        N’AURA EU LIEU
                                                                                                                        une élévation ordinaire verse l’absence
                                                                                                    QUE LE LIEU
                                                                                                                             inférieur clapotis quelconque comme pour disperser l’acte vide
                                                                                                        abruptement qui sinon
                                                                                                                 par son mensonge
                                                                                                      eût fondé
                                                                                                            la perdition
                                                                                                             dans ces parages
                                                                                                     du vague
                                                                                                             en quoi toute réalité se dissout

         EXCEPTÉ
  à l’altitude
  PEUT-ÊTRE
      aussi loin qu’un endroit fusionne avec au-delà
                                                                                                                  hors l’intérêt
                                                                                                                   quant à lui signalé
                                                                                                                          en général
                                                                                                                       selon telle obliquité par telle déclivité
                                                                                                        de feux
                                                                                                         vers
                                                                                                                 ce doit être
                                                                                                       le Septentrion aussi Nord
                                                                                                                          UNE CONSTELLATION
                                                                                                         froide d’oubli et de désuétude
                                                                                                      pas tant
                                                                                                                 qu’elle n’énumère
                                                                                                         sur quelque surface vacante et supérieure
                                                                                                                            le heurt successif
                                                                                                        sidéralement
                                                                                                          d’un compte total en formation
                                                                                                      veillant
                                                                                                                       doutant
                                                                                                                             roulant
                                                                                                      brillant et méditant
                                                                                                              avant de s’arrêter
                                                                                                                 à quelque point dernier qui le sacre
                                                                                                          Toute Pensée émet un Coup de Dés



[Stéphane Mallarmé, poème paru en 1897 dans la revue Cosmopolis puis publié en 1914 dans La Nouvelle Revue Française.]