附文 – 只是看看 | Just Looking
只是看看
by A.M. HOMES
这里曾有事发生。
不好的事情。
标记，痕迹，遗留的碎片——证据。
他在夜间开车寻找安慰，
他看着路牌——单向、让行、停止、
就好像它们能告诉他一些事情——下一步该做什么。
他四处游荡。
他在晚上开车寻找灯光,那标示着某个人的家。
他寻找投下的阴影——他不想看到太多。
不去知道太多也是一种愉悦。
他晚上开车找空位，
一座空城堡、四面墙和一个屋顶。
一个可以窝在里边、可以躺倒、保持低调隐蔽的地方。
找房子.
白天——一条狗嗅着地毯，准租户数
着壁橱,仔细探查橱柜内部。一切都是单层板
一切都是纤维板，都是空心的，没有什么是真实的。
天黑后，孩子们拿着 Colt 45 和 Johnny Walker 的瓶子偷偷溜进来。
他们被染色的床垫, 和主卧里天蓝色绒毛地毯所吸引。
他们带来了一个音箱，为这个地方注入了一两个小时的活力，
嗡嗡作响的巨大低音喇叭使人造木地板为之振动
他们脱下鞋和袜子，赤脚跳舞。
当他们结束后，他走进去 - 你好？有人在家吗？
房架的就像骷髅一样——诉说.
他从一个房间移动到另一个房间，一个秘密的人类学家，阅读幽灵
曾经是家具摆放处的凹痕，编织了这里发生的故事和原因。金属床架的宽脚，电视柜的细腿，
橱柜中部肥大的隆起，厨房水槽里破碎的咖啡杯，
溢出的玉米淀粉容器，墙上的磨损痕迹，板岩上的穿孔。
这些是被剥夺的、被收回的、丧失了抵押品赎回权的人们的房屋。
这就是剩下的-被遗弃的回响.
这些是人们居住的地方。
他在外面观察。
如果人们注意到他，他们感到被调查的恐惧。
有时他们会关灯并结束他们的“演出”。
有时，其中邻居会出来询问——有什么特别的吗？
有时有人会报警。他们从后面慢慢靠近
先生，请出示您的驾照,
他们对他进行检查-结果发现他并没有问题.
你迷路了吗？电池没电了？
只是看看
你知道这是一种犯罪——偷窥狂。你最好离开。
Ollie, Ollie, Oxen free, 捉迷藏结束, 每个人都为了自己。
路灯下是安全区域.
他记得黄昏时分在院子里转圈
在草丛中。他记得家的感觉。
他在时间中旅行。他在记忆中旅行
词语在夜晚飘荡-垃圾、狗、洗碗机、汽车。
没人看到的时候——他拍照，
那些无法看到事物的肖像，捕捉图像，
精神在雾中发光。他记录了气态的光芒，
梦的空灵消失了
这就是剩下的——与完美的相反的那一面，
错误永远在发生；一个染色的窗帘，一个歪斜的阴影,
油布, 虚假的安全，篱笆，树木，雪.
空心阴影。
内部/外部
家
Just Looking
This is the place where something happened.
Things went wrong.
There are marks, traces, pieces left behind-evidence.
He drives at night looking for comfort,
reading the street signs~One Way, Yield, Stop,
as though they might tell him something-what to do next.
He prowls-looking.
He drives at night looking for the light that signals somebody's home.
He looks for the shade pulled down-he doesn't want to see too much.
There is pleasure in not knowing.
He drives at night looking for a vacancy,
an empty castle, four walls and a roof.
a place to hole up, to lie down, to lay low.
House hunting.
By day-a dog sniffs the carpet, prospective tenants count
the closets and peer into cabinets. Everything 1s a veneer
everything is fiberboard, hollow core, nothing is real.
After dark kids sneak in with bottles of Colt 45 and Johnny Walker.
They are drawn to the stained mattresses, to the sky blue plush pile in the master bedroom.
They bring a boom box and for an hour or two breathe life into the place,
the boom. boom. boom of the mega-bass sets the faux wood paneling on vibrate
They take off their shoes and socks and dance barefoot.
When they are done, he goes in-Hello? Anybody home?
The bones of the house are like a skeleton-telling
He moves from room to room, a secret anthropologist, reading the ghostly
indentations where furniture once was, inventing stories about what
happened and why. The wide feet of a metal bed frame, the thin legs of a T.V. stand,
the fat press of a breakfront, the broken coffee cup in the kitchen sink,
the spilled container of cornstarch, scuff marks on the wall, a hole punched
through the sheet rock.
These are the houses of the dispossessed, repossessed, foreclosed.
This is what remains-abandoned echo
These are the places where people live.
He watches from outside.
People notice, they feel the chill of being surveyed.
Sometimes they turn the lights off and end the show.
Sometimes one of the neighbors steps out-anything interesting?
Sometimes someone calls the police. They pull up slowly trom the rear
May we see your license Sir?
They run a check on him-he comes up clean
Are you lost? Battery die?
Just looking
It's a crime you know-Peeping Tom. Better move on.
Ollie, Ollie, Oxen free. Every man for himself.
The streetlight is a satety zone
He remembers being out in the yard at dusk, spinning circles
in the grass. He remembers the sensations of home.
He travels in time. he travels in memory
Words drift out into the night-garbage, dog, dishwasher, car.
When no one is looking-he takes pictures,
portraits of what can't be seen, apprehending images,
spirits luminescent in the fog. He documents the gaseous glow,
the ethereal ether of dreams disappeared
This is what remains-the opposite of pertect,
something always wrong; a stained curtain, a shade askew.
linoleum. false security, fences, trees, snow
Hollow shadows.
Inside/Outside
Home