LISTEN TO ME READ MY BOOKS
Deborah Levy
Diary of a Steak  
 

Thursday

Name: Buttercup.
Nationality: English: a vast repetoire of emotionally and physically unstable symptoms.
Born: East Grinstead.
Distinguishing Marks: White head. Black patch over left eye. Big boned. Pierced ears.
Father: Prime Hereford. Solid block of face. White feet. Shining eyes.
Mother: Friesan. Sharp straight eyelashes. Long nose. Dark lips. Big boned.

Friday

I am not mad. Pank you.

Friday

They gave me a bottle of ammonia to smell. I said it was rose water. They gave me charcoal to eat. I told them it was chocolate. They gave me a top hat. I told them it was my baby and suckled it in front of the distinguished gentlemen farmers and independent experts on brain disease.

Monday

We won the war.

Tuesday

Tell the world wer'e proud of our hotels and bovine vertebral columns.

I am the national anthem.

Thursday

I can feel some erotic hysteria coming on.

It's coming.

My theatre of rib and shadows

Saturday

My momm y wen to the incinerator. She was not allowed to suckle me. I'm a herbivore but I was made into a carnival.

 
 
 
         
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