Two Erasures || The Waste Land, T. S. Eliot
An Erasure by the Sybil
Source text: The Waste Land, epigraph and Part I, The Burial of the Dead
the boys asked: What do you want? cruelest Memory Bin keine echt I was In much night, and Out broken no shelter And dry no sound fear in a handful of dust I could not Speak I was Nothing Looking into silence leer to be said she I am forbidden myself death undone And up and down dead disturbed men
An Erasure by Four Women
Source text: The Waste Land, Part II, A Game of Chess
The she a burnished throne Glowed on the marble Held up by standards fruited peeped out eyes behind his Doubled flames as glitter her poured In vials Unstoppered, lurked her strange synthetic Liquid—troubled, confused drowned the sense in odours Burned and framed Freshened In fattening a window gave upon sad light
barbarous king forced Filled with inviolable voice And still she cried dirty withered stumps told staring forms hushing enclosed her Spread out Words, savagely still
3. The Woman
My nerves are bad Stay with me. Speak to me. What thinking I think we are rats’ Dead men lost “What is Nothing again nothing. Is there nothing in your head? What shall I do now? out as I am walk the street my hair down we shall play a game waiting
4. Lil Husband I can’t bear to look at you. a straight look no more Oh is there Then I’ll know who to thank I can’t help it them all right Sunday was hot Goonight.
Dion Farquhar has recent poems in Non-Binary Review, Superpresent, Blind Field, Poesis, Cape Rock: Poetry, Poydras Review, Mortar, Local Nomad, Columbia Poetry Review, moria, Shifter, BlazeVOX, etc. Her third poetry book Don’t Bother is in press at Finishing Line Press, and she has three chapbooks. She works as an exploited adjunct at two universities, but still loves the classroom, and she is active in the University of California Santa Cruz adjunct union, the UC-AFT.