The human voice of Jean Cocteau

Following minutely the occultist instructions hadwritten by Jean Cocteau himself 7 hours before his departure, a group of scientists and technicians disinterred the corpse in 196..?


The evident state of decomposition was fixed covering the semi-naked bones with a gelatinous liquid

and new inorganic flesh substituted the corrupted

and plastic skin covered the destroyed epidermis

and new human eyes were inserted in the cavities of Jean Cocteau, the eyes of an Algerian thief or rapist who was spontaneously stoned by the neighbors of Montmartre during the fevers of DeGaulle:

the optic nerves were re-connected and intubated into their due ramifications and terminals using ultra-thin vinylite.

The electricity connected to the dura mater and spinal cord provoked a series of robotic spasms in the partially artificial body of Cocteau:

the mandible moved hysterically: the professor Ricard D****** noted that the vocal cords of Cocteau were devoured by the babosas in the humid hospitality of the tomb... if only

if only Cocteau had vocal cords, maybe, they could vibrate in the form of listenable sounds?

Cocteau, despite his dead cerebrum, was in that moment like a boombox blasting Slayer and Mano Negra cassettes, just that the boombox hadn't... speakers?

Cocteau? If only?

The mouth of Cocteau kept moving with psychoneurotic agitation while the rest of his body was petrified, deader than the star Sirius:

feeling a powerful nausea, the scientists and the technicians left the room.














                                                                                     


                                                                    §














Early the morning after they returned to the room:
the mouth of Jean Cocteau still moved nervously... possibly if Cocteau could feel some pain he would be tranced in unbearable cramps, or fallen unconscious on the floor at that stage, but he just was an automatic and insensitive amount of tendons, bones, muscles and re-constructed organs:


they should steal someone's vocal cords for Jean Cocteau, because... it was mandatory... necessary... indispensable!

To hear those sounds that... hum... potentially would... emanate from that dead mouth? 
A dead mouth only moved by means of electricity


— "Ha ha ha ha! Please, Prof. B********! He is dead! A dead pile of flesh
pathetic, pathetic! 
Ha ha! Imagine if only... imagine! Imagine the human voice of Jean Cocteau! 
All for us! HA HA HA!
Only for us! The voice!.. Get it? The voice. The voice of a dead man..!
Oh, please Prof B********! You kill me! Ha ha ha!"






































Under the shivering light of a surgeon's lamp, in a suburban room of Paris, at midnight, 11 men with eyeglasses examine the membranous infoldings perfectly located within the re-constructed larynx of Jean Cocteau

22 eyes scrutinize every detail of the just installed vocal folds by means of inverted looking glasses:

slowly, 6 hands lift the torso of Cocteau until it gets an erect position, while the glutei stay sedent on the stretcher

the body of Jean Cocteau doesn't move, tensely hardened by means of its only inertia:

the flexible fibers that should transport electricity were connected to the dura mater and spinal cord again



a hesitant hand moved toward the switch, the index finger touched the plastic button, slightly, an irrespirable atmosphere floated on itself on the room






the finger pressed the switch with clumsy movement, while the mouth of Jean Cocteau started moving, in front of 22 horrified eyes of men who covered their ears with desperation.

Out, on a corner of December that had no name, the dogs barked enraged prey of the midnight lunation.