Duchamp Test: Bobbi Lurie
Rrose Sélavy (Marcel Duchamp), Man Ray, 1921
by Russell Bennetts
1. How much of New York City has Duchamp walked?
a walk is a way with one’s self – city or not – distance is innerness – (( duchamp knew this / as did few for he was one few of the many – )) duchamp = one of the very few who ever knew.
he traveled the streets of his inner abode – sol – i – tude – solitary and joyous ~ singular freedom – (( indifference an energy-saving device for ‘tis hero – conserving energy – life so short & others – of which they are always demanding & yet yet )) fascinating framework to escape one’s self an ego in the way in a limited way barely a road but still a way as movements go and so sacrifice of time consistent with the equal yet opposite effect of contacting the deep well of existence – conforming only to the point of blanking out the ego factor – an exhaustion – cunning indifference ~ graceful & light in his walk / in the walks of duchamp / between talk(s) which were few and minimal him – oh, yes: perhaps a pun -he walked up subway steps rejecting nothing – that woman, sexless, walking down the subway steps / having once had sex so say the profile-watchers of the child so similar to him for she, the woman on the steps, walking towards duchamp who walked the streets amidst his solitude unseemingly deeply absorbed for awareness was for what could be formulated in clarity light as a triangle – she gave birth to a replica of the family patterns between the two of them – genetic slips turning them into avidity or indifference to the deepest of relaxations: acceptance of the self ~ most fret endlessly with the thin veneer this life what lurks beneath he walked the walk of one set free by self not measuring distances
2. Does Duchamp see time as art?
art is time but time isn’t art. of course duchamp would see this retinal conundrum as an indivisible factor to a contributing allusion – why it is serious and urgent that we must downgrade art to true time components dependent on perceptual possibility of particular yet another merely half-asleep one / dipped literally into groupmind – art is a waste of time and time is a waste of art. so would see duchamp (if he looked)
3. What brand of cigars does he smoke?
havana of course – or anything cuban – or anything available
4. Could Duchamp beat Mallarme at a videogame?
video games are a sad tragedy and the essential impetus from which discussions with duchamp were forced to enter this illusory realm of three-dimensional coupons to save me from the technological nonsense of yes-(wo)men – political correctness and feigned rebellion / so bored is it to be electronically absent / the sense of touch lost through (not)”friends” on cell phones ~ checking for photos so few (wo)men to admire – duchamp could but would not win at such a huge gamble at the knocking of the slight and slender/ tender admiration of a fellow human / such a rare occasion ~ not worth it to sacrifice – so no – no retinal mindlessness shaped more jarringly in the realm of the annoyance competition of “wits” for wits and all forms of cleverness have a deadening mask-effect-the-face way of being so prevalent in this vacant-mindless time of devolution and doublespeak and no care for freedom just the acquisition of popularity contest points so no he wouldn’t risk it – products of our times: still: duchamp would never become a mime on the streets of paris ~ neither would he sacrifice his ability to love anyone at all – for one of the few who wanted similar space of freedom having read all the books / seeking small haven from the poverty of this existence / duchamp an ecstatic messaging system of indifference ~ deep love for mallarme so “non”
5. How long does Duchamp spend shopping?
“I have no need of anything” (Duchamp)
6. Chess or bookstores?
7. Does Rrose Sélavy swim in a fountain?
Let’s face it: we’re all swimming in a fountain.
About Bobbi Lurie:
Bobbi Lurie is the author of four poetry collections, most recently “the morphine poems.” She writes for Berfrois. Her essays on Marcel Duchamp can be found here.