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.]