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.]