Jiří Klobouk

JAZZ II: Parents

D
A
W
N & may the earth rest not heavy on us All join hands. Liz too
later on : creating a big common ellipse like an Easter egg. The
piano concealed by a blue curtain reveals from a kneeling
position numerous prints made by the delicate tips of children’s
fingers. The block calendar on the wall indicates a summer Sun
day the twenty-fifth of June this year. Outside the windows of
the gymnasium it is getting dark evening is falling
silently
&Applause
from the parents on the balcony doesn’t die down on the contrary
it increases in volume. And at the moment that one of the child
unexpectedly starts to hum the song Raining raining: the ex
citement reaches a climax the afternoon programme of the end
of school Celebration comes to a close. One song follows after
another. The ellipse changes into a circle back into an ellipse tur
ning to right and left. Some.Naked.Feet.When raised they reveal
dirt. The gym-pumps of that part of the children lie thrown round
about the toes together the heels together in various positions corn
ers rarely parallel. Who could expect perfect tidiness here in the
hall of the gymnasium the ground-plan of which reminds one of a
large

T


A tear of emotion trickled down a cheek. Those silly little childr
en! A freak of nature! Yes. Yes. A pip extracted from the womb.
One can’t believe one’s eyes. How time flies. Jazz jazzz jazzzz.
A Caesarian section. Men haven’t got a clue and they just smile
maliciously when they see a pregnant woman but I what about
me: placenta amniotic fluid i.e. a cake full of blood and here it
comes she’ll be one of us soon Aaah world the doctor slaps her
on the bottom the first liberation breath just look at it down ther
e running around yes she’s young woman. A young woman alr
eady. Cecily D. and Cecily B. both unmarried mothers up there
on the right at the edge of the balcony nod in agreement looking
like two characters cut out of a novel by Mrs Hanka Myrilinmes
erschmidttenor they are sitting on two chairs with circular backs
looking down at the tireless whirl of young bodies veiled by a sw
irl of dust in the abysmal half-light. Ears feelers raised on the hea
d listen with devotion. Now Liz does exercises with the other chil
dren now she accompanies the violinist on the Rösler piano while
Father and Mother present on the balcony clasp one another’s han
ds bedewed with the sweat of an unobservable love. You can’t de
ceive us Liz! You’re still asleep now! Your big greyish-blue eyes
locked in the sockets gasping for breath. You’re like a sudden sp
rinkling of rain on the rugged face of a tree. A padlock. The flow
of water continues. The jig of destruction reclaims its lost territor
y. The rough waves lash wildly under her eye-lids. A pack of wol
ves tear each other into bloody pieces. Clap your hands until you
lose the ground under your feet. Until finally that ever present hor
se rears up its wings: we’re saved! One day not long past Liz ran
out of school during break. She looked round to the right to the le
ft Mr I.Z. Kokenbalistenhamrshmiddouden’s delivery van from th
e Municipal Gardens and Nurseries drives up the rack on the met
al roof full of wreaths. Yesterday evening at half past nine the la
st eye-witness of the last war died while Liz was skipping down
the dark corridor to the backyard door across the tiled yard to the
shanty which was not even rough-cast: Frantisek Badenbadenha
napel master creator of frames taking a breather in the doorway
Father bent over a longish table hammering away at a chisel whi
tish splinters drop on the floor
- Dad, he who curses his father and his mother will see his candle
snuffed out in the midst of darkness
- The eye that mocks his father or mother may it be pecked out by
ravens of the stream and eaten by the eagles why do you ask
- May your eyes be pecked out by ravens of the stream and eaten
by the eagles why do you torment me /​so you intend to kill Mum
my with a pair of scissors anyway/​
- You seem to know a hell of a lot about us
- /​She intends to shoot you with a 9mm pistol doesn’t she/​
Father tall and desiccated feels in the pocket of his corduroy trou
sers for his silver fish-shaped pen-knife no answer is forthcoming
just as the cigarette smoke smells with the fragrance on linden-blo
ssom he sharpens the purple pencil and breaths out over the bench.

Selected Works

Fiction
a collection of short stories
About dream and reality.
Literature as jazz improvisation.
Essays
Describes humanity’s crossroads in which one road leads to hell and the other out of hell.