Éireann Lorsung

I am aiming at a Rilkean kind of celebrational object
—William Gass

I'm looking for a word that means a desire, a strong desire, for a certain kind of object.
Where did it come from, this feeling of pink things.
Which are not ‘pink'. For instance a shooting star pin by Kiki Smith is pink.

Pink as a feeling: I want things resolutely pink.
The pink of my mind is a cerise pink, a      pink of fuchsias, etc.
Pink is a kind of index in my brain. Indexing my brain. Way of seeing.


My hair is long enough to wear in braids around my head (not necessarily pink).
Today I put spun cotton mushrooms, acorns, bird, velvet leaves in the braids (pink).

Maggie Nelson's book Bluets is pink.
So is the book Une histoire de bleu by Jean-Michel Maulpoix.

Two blue things as pink things:
I imagine pink not mappable outside the body.


The combination of living alone in a tiny, musty French apartment.
The rainwater in the courtyard. The red dotted-swiss at the windows.

The path from first movement of pencil (my father saying, now look, you made a dress!)
to here, this word, the next word, the word I am about to write.


Pink a silvering of the edges of most things.
A color of theory     mostly a color of making.






"Pink" is part of a series of poems in a manuscript called CERISERIE that are to do with my tracking a feeling which I experience as pink. It's also about, and comes from, my engagement with theory (especially with Derrida's writing). I'm trying to puzzle out why certain kinds of writing feel 'pink', and why, for example, something that feels really pink to me will often have some blue in it, or also feel strongly gilt or golden. I found the William Gass quote, which I love and which I want to sum up my work, in [an interview with him] on the Paris Review site.