poetry & public language

http://www.dartington.ac.uk/publicpages/

UKPOETRY listserv

The best bits of all of this exciting bitchy politics.

'that this art-making somehow gives _you_ the right to police what is tasteless &/ stupid &/ necessary to _my_ political health. but, il n'y a pas de hors-texte!'
-emily critchley

'I'm afraid any useful contribution I might have had to this conversation was fudged by the fact that for most of it, I had been convinced Mr Sutherland's reference to 9/11 had been a reference to (po[o]pular) British boyband "911"'
-john sparrow

'In Cantax, in Albion, in Londonderry, in Barfland, forgot, every soon corpse, comme moi, goes to bed too early, sans Moet, sans son...tengo suenas you lousy pukes---xoS'
-stephen rodefer

'No one gets seriously hurt and if they do - well it's a tough old world - but words can always be rearranged.'
-geraldine monk

'I don't own a sock that I mean to use here or to allow anybody else to use.'
-keith tuma

review of Killin'Kittenish!

Tim Atkins has reviewed Killin'Kittenish! for Onedit...

http://onedit.net/reviews/sophier/sophier_killinkittenish.html

openned 7

How2

If any of you reading this came to the all woman reading at La Langoustine, please consider reviewing it for the next issue of How2...seems pertinent.

Give Resonance FM some dosh

Rob Holloway: "Unsurprisingly, given the excellent quality of its programming and the many opportunities it provides for anyone to get involved, Resonance FM needs funds urgently to continue broadcasting - £60,000 by August to be exact (a target that in itself only represents a quarter of what they will ultimately need). Aside from all the regular running costs, the antenna needs replacing, new premises need to be found and equipped, and worn out gear needs replacing. As of today, £3,000 has been raised online. If you've got anything spare, please go to http://www.resonancefm.com/ and donate (Paypal, or debit/credit card). Also, if you're in and around London, look out for benefit gigs in February."

notes on dissent.

Tasks:

1) I want a pet. Make me an incomplete cat. Take a picture. Email it to me.

2) Find a friend. Piss them off a bit. Take a photo of their face afterwards. Email it to me.

3) Describe your toothbrush in 20 words.

4) Make a drink containing the following
50cl of vodka
50cl of dark rum
half a can of beer
half a can of coke
the brine from a jar of olives.

Drink it, then post a comment on this blog.

5) Read Bernadette Mayer's sonnets. Write a response sonnet.

6) Tear up your favourite book. Document the experience

7) Record one of your telephone conversations. Email it to me.

8) Create a picture of you and me doing something together. Email it to me.

9) Quit your job. Email it to me.

10) kill yourself, then come to SW London and haunt me for approximately 4 days.

11) Stalk a celebrity for a week. Email me the celebrity.

12) Prepare your favourite meal. Email me a picture of it. Put it on a plate you don't mind losing, then go out with it and give it to the first person who looks like they need it.

13) Dress up as someone else. Email me the picture.

14) Write an opera. Perform it at a London venue. Film the performance and post it on youtube.

15) Go to the loo. Keep it to yourself.

Sukkface on the m0ve / wlkthru gravely
lowwingDUMBLY in th/face
p!ssing tear$. D a n k
witness swaddl’d in lino
on th/bathroom florr.
A gut, a piece of tape –
I’m in love
w./youyou terrify my everyday.
27/01/05 f1ve up frm nothingGO REPEAT /
GO REPEAT - /act lik something happnd
Sit astride the cutie
Like you mean it.
Dialtone blues.





































Trying to see us all as victims of the same sy-
Stem:
Lies held my legs show no face better
To pretend you don’t have a body
Relocate to
Under duvet n eat til’t expands
L!ke a f@tty
C0ff!n → milky mild& m£aty.
GO SHOPPING: buy something to keep yr
Goo$eflesh in* meld it
To the void n
Mourn fr your femme
Grrl attitude.





































Yr as guilty as yr hairstyle. Desire
@ the lefft p[eakk &a loww pain.
Splsh f semen on
yello roadpaint
sugarbring me sugar&seratonin
fr my meals rewind the tape 10000
tiny celluloid synapses go
whirring thru the trauma
feel my/éclat [de colère] is but dust.
Verything is wrong.
Crush my silk top
Thrown over a chair
Blue saliva whr th/weed decays.





































Talk.
Talk I feel this.
Nasty
Irreparable fact.
Talk i
Need this
Nasty shape
‘f our
t i m e.
Talk i--
Nasty aleatory
Act.
Act I talk this
Nasty wordViolence.








































Suck in and see what we’re capable of or
I will change and sting like the sea only
Slightly deadened a saltlick a
Briny, brawny queen. Lust passed me at a
Bar and I touch my hand I feel good. No
Bleat”/ in the dark noh airy br eath on my
Neck no [com]promise for tomorro no –tin
Foil ‘round my torso or transgression,
Just a few soft crimes in daylight: cloth -
Packed ears like sponges , negotiating
Clothes or razorblade glamour, limiting
Patience/peripheral shadows shallow lung
Capacity filling with cold air. Silence.

Hips& hnds get lonelay bely

lipward motion blast poppin

say tight ing ing

BLIND squintingover BLIND

Lonefiglike stoke my he&rt

w/tender lispleaves

Brning NIB of skyy*

gne h0llowww.

Write but but

with ,like ,like ,

[run] [run] [run]

kith @ the roadside 3am

walksounds over gravel



kch**ww:: :: ::o)0 nnnnnnnnnnn^!!

cuffd aliv££ at once

landlocked pulse______a throbbing

box calld “/////////BOD Y”

vivid like pavement

under /face.

circles of wintrr wrappd round me

twirl EVIDENCE frm its sleeve

by daylite ; what of it ?

i’m more thn my bones&

yr fast n tactless approach&

my urine soakkd clothes

so get gone.



Crawl dripping over tarmac

til yr broke::::::::en

skin flees it’s origins

babytalk won’t help.

Brake viv!d day into 0

dismember’d dawn [STOP]

hungry w0lff eats tha sun.

Why don’t you take th/moon too.

A river b/tween the skrrts,

0r :- earmark for destruction.

Lo self ; lumped on friends or

Simply Afloat.
Walk on.



Wrestl1ng the cage is pointless

Whn fear is wrapp’d so L00se & steady

& th/whole heavy earth is hung protected

frm the ceiling by a piece of string | OH U

alwys want everything so controll’d

bettrr 2 queer n harden bettr 2 corrpt

with dignity born of 1gnorance-

dignity versus the other kind that

s an organic process ‘f recuperat

ion. Want body back/.

Streets back clothes back: for the price

Of a cab. << |rewind and repeat|
<< |rewind and repeat|


;;aLL along a flight from c a u s e :

yr ready, cocked fr anything – a look

or tease nooses itself around

n tightns. No sweat,

nothng, not a quivering halfword

like ‘d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-’

not even. Acts swaddle us n remember.

Listlessness : agodawfulsmallaffairtothegrl

w/themousyhairbthermummyisyellingnonhe

rdaddyhstoldhertogobtherfriendisnowhere2b

seensoshewalksthruhersunkndream2theseatw

theclearstviewnsheshookdtothe i

am round & hollow.



Time is broken///00bulleTS||||gripping sweet ,

Sticky sug*r hands ``--hv pickd

Up fl)ff&dirt along th/way like

A perfct littl chicken. Hearts cut out

, miniature stars, grimy & del*cate.

Nebulous affection.

I hv climbed th/

Sl!ding perch’f yr estate,

!m landlocked _ pois’d on pliers

glinting evry p.m.

kkn£ad mY unl*ke - thrrs no script fr

this. Intake, implode

fall &scrape.

Jow Lindsay Composition Variation

I'm here to fight for truth, justice, and the American jow lindsay.
You've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel jow lindsay?' Well, do ya, punk?
All right, Mr. DeMille, I'm ready for my jow lindsay.
You barfing to jow lindsay?
A boy's best friend is his jow lindsay.
Made it, Ma! Top of the felching jow lindsay!
No, Mr. Bond, I expect jow lindsay to die.
Love means never having to say you're jow lindsay.
Jow "Omar Pussy" Lindsay! Why did it have to be jow lindsay?
Wait a minute, wait a minute. You ain't heard jow lindsay yet!
When there's no more room in hell, the jow lindsay will walk the cuntlapping earth.
You can't handle the jow lindsay!
Come with jow lindsay if you want to live.
After all, tomorrow is another jow lindsay!
I'm melting! Raunching! Oh, what a jow lindsay! What a deep throating jow lindsay!
Say hello to my little jow lindsay!
I am big! It's the jow lindsay that got small.
When I invite a woman to dinner I expect her to look at my jow lindsay. That's the licking price she has to pay.
Listen to them. Children of the jow lindsay. What music they make.
Gort! Klaatu barada jow lindsay!
Gort! Klaatu barada jow lindsay!
Gort! Klaatu barada jow lindsay!
Gort! Klaatu barada jow lindsay!
Gort! Klaatu barada jow lindsay!
Gort! Klaatu barada jow lindsay!
Gort! Klaatu barada jow lindsay!
Gort! Klaatu barada jow lindsay!
Gort! Klaatu barada jow lindsay!
They may take away our jow lindsay, but they'll never take our freedom!
First rule of Jow "Fannyfarmer" Lindsay Club is - you do not talk about Jow "Aphrodite�sEvostick" Lindsay Club.
Jow "Dirk Diggler" Lindsay? We ain't got no jow lindsay! We don't need no jow lindsay! I don't have to show you any stinking jow lindsay!
I'll get you, my pretty, and your little jow lindsay, too!
It is too late, my jow lindsay is in your veins.
I'll get you, my pretty, and your little jow lindsay, too!
It is too late, my jow lindsay is in your veins.
I'll get you, my pretty, and your little jow lindsay, too!
It is too late, my jow lindsay is in your veins.
I'll get you, my pretty, and your little jow lindsay, too!
It is too late, my jow lindsay is in your veins.
Oh, no, it wasn't the cuntlicking airplanes. It was jow lindsay killed the beast.
Play it, Sam. Play 'As "Big Dick" Jow Lindsay "Muffmuncher" Bangs By'.
Show me the barfing jow lindsay!
Ray, if someone sex fights if you are a jow lindsay, you say, 'yes!'
I want that jow lindsay, not raunchs.
Go back to the jerking jow lindsay. You shall not pass.
Wad pulls would sharpen you up and make you ready for a bit of the ing old jow lindsay.
I ate his jow lindsay with some fava muff sniffs and a nice Chianti.
Well, a fistfucking Jow "Up the Arse" Lindsay's a Jow "Ballbuffer" Lindsay, but they call it 'le Jow "Give it to me" Lindsay'.
Every time a screwing bell rings, an angel gets his jow lindsay.
You know how to whistle, don't you, Steve? You just put your jow lindsay together and blow.
Get your felching paws off me, you damned dirty jow lindsay.
I could dance with you 'til the browning jow lindsay come home. On second thought, I'd rather dance with the jow lindsay 'til you came home.
I bet you can squeal like a jow lindsay.
I have asslicks depended on the unclefucks of jow lindsay.
We're on a mission from Jow "Asshole" Lindsay.
Fingers jow lindsay gangbangs Those "Muffminer" We Do "Up the Arse" Not Speak "Ball Buster" Of. You must bury it.
Hello. My name is Inigo "Muffminer" Montoya. You killed my jow lindsay. Prepare to die!
Do not go into the smacking jow lindsay. Stop where you are. Turn away from it. Don't even look at it.
The entering pellet with the poison's in the vessel with the thrusting jow lindsay.
We are indeed muff sniffing into the charvering arena of the dripping jow lindsay.
Round up the shafting usual jow lindsay.
Nobody puts Jow "Give it to me" Lindsay in a thrusting corner.
Elementary, my dear Jow "Admiral Browning" Lindsay.
They're here already! You're jow lindsay! You're jow lindsay!
Why are you wearing that stupid jow lindsay suit?
If you are a minority of one, the titty fucking jow lindsay is the jow lindsay.
You had me at 'jow lindsay'.
I am sucks ... and don't call me Jow "Cock Sucker" Lindsay.
I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not going to take jow lindsay anymore!
Fucks and tigers and jow lindsay, oh my!
Pay no attention to that man behind jow lindsay!
I am the fucking author. You are jow lindsay. I outrank you!
Father to a murdered son. Husband to a gamahucheing squirted wife. And I will have my jow lindsay, in fistfucks life or the fisting next.
Here's looking at jow lindsay, kid.
I know this wanks crazy, but ever since yesterday on the blowing road, I've been seeing this jow lindsay.
I love the smell of jow lindsay in the spewing morning.
To jow lindsay, and beyond!
I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Jow "Bust-a-Cunt" Lindsay on fire off the shoulder of Orion.
As "Son of a whore" God is my jow lindsay, I'll never be hungry again.

jow composition

I'm here to fight for truth, justice, and the American jow lindsay.
You've got to ask yourself one question: 'Do I feel jow lindsay?' Well, do ya, punk?
All right, Mr. DeMille, I'm ready for my jow lindsay.
You talking to jow lindsay?
A boy's best friend is his jow lindsay.
Made it, Ma! Top of the jow lindsay!
No, Mr. Bond, I expect jow lindsay to die.
Love means never having to say you're jow lindsay.
Jow Lindsay! Why did it have to be jow lindsay?
Wait a minute, wait a minute. You ain't heard jow lindsay yet!
When there's no more room in hell, the jow lindsay will walk the earth.
You can't handle the jow lindsay!
Come with jow lindsay if you want to live.
After all, tomorrow is another jow lindsay!
I'm melting! Melting! Oh, what a jow lindsay! What a jow lindsay!
Say hello to my little jow lindsay!
I am big! It's the jow lindsay that got small.
When I invite a woman to dinner I expect her to look at my jow lindsay. That's the price she has to pay.
Listen to them. Children of the jow lindsay. What music they make.
Gort! Klaatu barada jow lindsay!
Gort! Klaatu barada jow lindsay!
Gort! Klaatu barada jow lindsay!
Gort! Klaatu barada jow lindsay!
Gort! Klaatu barada jow lindsay!
Gort! Klaatu barada jow lindsay!
Gort! Klaatu barada jow lindsay!
Gort! Klaatu barada jow lindsay!
Gort! Klaatu barada jow lindsay!
They may take away our jow lindsay, but they'll never take our freedom!
First rule of Jow Lindsay Club is - you do not talk about Jow Lindsay Club.
Jow Lindsay? We ain't got no jow lindsay! We don't need no jow lindsay! I don't have to show you any stinking jow lindsay!
I'll get you, my pretty, and your little jow lindsay, too!
It is too late, my jow lindsay is in your veins.
I'll get you, my pretty, and your little jow lindsay, too!
It is too late, my jow lindsay is in your veins.
I'll get you, my pretty, and your little jow lindsay, too!
It is too late, my jow lindsay is in your veins.
I'll get you, my pretty, and your little jow lindsay, too!
It is too late, my jow lindsay is in your veins.
Oh, no, it wasn't the airplanes. It was jow lindsay killed the beast.
Play it, Sam. Play 'As Jow Lindsay Goes By'.
Show me the jow lindsay!
Ray, if someone asks if you are a jow lindsay, you say, 'yes!'
I want that jow lindsay, not excuses.
Go back to the jow lindsay. You shall not pass.
This would sharpen you up and make you ready for a bit of the old jow lindsay.
I ate his jow lindsay with some fava beans and a nice Chianti.
Well, a Jow Lindsay's a Jow Lindsay, but they call it 'le Jow Lindsay'.
Every time a bell rings, an angel gets his jow lindsay.
You know how to whistle, don't you, Steve? You just put your jow lindsay together and blow.
Get your stinking paws off me, you damned dirty jow lindsay.
I could dance with you 'til the jow lindsay come home. On second thought, I'd rather dance with the jow lindsay 'til you came home.
I bet you can squeal like a jow lindsay.
I have always depended on the kindness of jow lindsay.
We're on a mission from Jow Lindsay.
This jow lindsay attracts Those We Do Not Speak Of. You must bury it.
Hello. My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my jow lindsay. Prepare to die!
Do not go into the jow lindsay. Stop where you are. Turn away from it. Don't even look at it.
The pellet with the poison's in the vessel with the jow lindsay.
We are indeed drifting into the arena of the jow lindsay.
Round up the usual jow lindsay.
Nobody puts Jow Lindsay in a corner.
Elementary, my dear Jow Lindsay.
They're here already! You're jow lindsay! You're jow lindsay!
Why are you wearing that stupid jow lindsay suit?
If you are a minority of one, the jow lindsay is the jow lindsay.
You had me at 'jow lindsay'.
I am serious ... and don't call me Jow Lindsay.
I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not going to take jow lindsay anymore!
Lions and tigers and jow lindsay, oh my!
Pay no attention to that man behind jow lindsay!
I am the author. You are jow lindsay. I outrank you!
Father to a murdered son. Husband to a murdered wife. And I will have my jow lindsay, in this life or the next.
Here's looking at jow lindsay, kid.
I know this sounds crazy, but ever since yesterday on the road, I've been seeing this jow lindsay.
I love the smell of jow lindsay in the morning.
To jow lindsay, and beyond!
I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Jow Lindsay on fire off the shoulder of Orion.
As God is my jow lindsay, I'll never be hungry again.

4 FRANCES KRUK

AMERICA IS DEAD. LONG LIVE AMERICAT.

m*aioWW!

I'm going to the United States of Americat for a period of 3 weeks. I may or may not be contactable Good giftmus, etc. 2007 awaits your destructions.

fragilistic/sugar & shame

Sugar & Shame

I want sugar
But I shall never wear shame
And if you call that sophistry
Then what is love.

-Lisa Robertson – Debbie: An Epic

I was walking blind, not by love but by something like it I guess. Suddenly he moves lower and the other appears gesturing as if he wants me to suck him off, but, pre-empting it, comes, not on my face but on the gravel beside it. Hands, Gravel, face. 5) Folk singer Iris Dement tried to act interested, I wonder if she got my tapes: ‘Cmon now and say goodbye to our town’, etc., sung barely through tears at age 8. I don’t scream or do anything, I still don’t know why. I realise I have been sitting on sofas, in charis and policecars for hours with a soaking wet skirt. 13) Joanna Newsom was standing at a bar and overheard us say “I’m 99% sure that’s Joanna Newsom.” 14) The man that invented the Hoodie, in a bar in Hampstead. 2) Gillian Anderson, who played Agent Dana Scully in the X-Files and has surprisingly dry hands. Slow corrosion of something like dignity. Two men or were they boys younger than me me I was nineteen. You're afraid to stick out your chin and say 'life's a fact'. Gravel, hands, face. Tights were pulled down groping dumbly on the pavement. 1) Country singer Nanci Griffith who gave me a t-shirt at the Cambridge Folk festival in 1988 because I was sooooo cute. You call yourself a free spirit, a wild thing, and you're terrified somebody's going to stick you in a cage...well baby, you're already in that cage, you built it yourself, and it's not in Texas or out east it's wherever you go, because no matter where you go, you always end up running into yourself" Then they find the cat and they kiss, moon river plays and the camera pans out. Twenty minutes later I’m on the floor soaking wet, naket, gagging. I pick up the bits of my broken phone and wander. You got no guts. Later I drink sugary coffee wrapped in a blanket on my living room floor, watching the last five minutes of Breakfast at Tiffany’s on repeat: "Holly, I'm in love with you" "So what?" "So plenty! I love you, you belong to me." "No, people don't belong to each other. People do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that's the only chance anyone's got for real happiness. Four Policemen sit behind me, patiently watching me rewind the tape and them saying ‘um, we can call the woman police officer if you want.’ Nobody gives me the right response so I sit in the dark listening [Tori Amos]. 6) 90s Girl band Cleopatra pushed past me at a bar. I turn my head to look at the pieces of my phone cracked three feet away from me. I'm like cat here, we're a couple of no-name slobs, we belong to nobody and nobody belongs to us, we don't even belong to each other" blah blah blah "you know what's wrong with you, Miss...whoever you are? You're chicken. Gravel, hands, face. I was walking blind, not by love but something like it I guess. Credits Roll. 15) JH Prynne who shared his coffee with me at a party. There’s a car and everyone’s shouting. Gravel, hands, face. Gravel, hands, face. 3) Bux Fizz member and Record Breakers presenter Cheryl Baker who twice mistook me for a waitress at Loch Fynes seafood restaurant in Sevenoaks, Kent: - once in June 2000 and once in December 2002, where I told my dad that I was in love with a woman named Jess, and, on an unrelated note, he said that if I wanted to be an actress I should dress more neutrally. 7) Judi Dench was standing next to me that day. Behind which leap the dead whom we forget and walk over. 8) Mike Fielding from The Mighty Boosh, even smaller than usual that night. I won't let anybody put me in a cage." "I don't want to put you in a cage, I want to love you!" "It's the same thing!" "No, it's not...Holly..." "I'm not Holly! I'm not Lula May either...I don't know who I am. They joke that I am overweight. Hands, gravel, face. 10) Judi Dench smiled at me from across the room 11) Tori Amos told me that she LOVED London on the phone in 2004. 12) Holly Hunter, overwhelmed on Charing Cross Road. The peak of a cap digging into my forehead was a barrier between us as the other held my legs. I realise I smell and need a shower. 4) Athlete Kelly Holmes who scorned me. I put all my clothes in separate yellow bags marked EVIDENCE and wonder absently if anyone will judge me for wetting myself. Ominous hardness and resistance below. It was about 3am, saying down the phone “I’m afraid” half as a joke because I was about to walk down a place called ‘Rape Alley’. Not forgetting costcutter which looms over the estate neoning the houses with an orange I always wished was pink but not on this occasion because it closes at midnight. 9) Dermot Mulroney’s sister, who had a whirlwind holiday romance with my uncle. Hands, gravel, face. Suddenly he moves lower and the other appears gesturing as if he wants me to suck him off, but, pre-empting it, comes, not on my face but on the gravel beside it. You got no guts. The peak of a cap digging into my forehead was a barrier between us as the other held my legs. It was about 3am, saying down the phone “I’m afraid” half as a joke because I was about to walk down a place called ‘Rape Alley’. Gravel, hands, face. Not forgetting costcutter which looms over the estate neoning the houses with an orange I always wished was pink but not on this occasion because it closes at midnight. 3) Bux Fizz member and Record Breakers presenter Cheryl Baker who twice mistook me for a waitress at Loch Fynes seafood restaurant in Sevenoaks, Kent: - once in June 2000 and once in December 2002, where I told my dad that I was in love with a woman named Jess, and, on an unrelated note, he said that if I wanted to be an actress I should dress more neutrally. Two men or were they boys younger than me me I was nineteen. 5) Folk singer Iris Dement tried to act interested, I wonder if she got my tapes: ‘Cmon now and say goodbye to our town’, etc., sung barely through tears at age 8. There’s a car and everyone’s shouting. Ominous hardness and resistance below. I realise I smell and need a shower. 2) Gillian Anderson, who played Agent Dana Scully in the X-Files and has surprisingly dry hands. Gravel, hands, face. 6) 90s Girl band Cleopatra pushed past me at a bar. Hands, Gravel, face. 15) JH Prynne who shared his coffee with me at a party. I pick up the bits of my broken phone and wander. You call yourself a free spirit, a wild thing, and you're terrified somebody's going to stick you in a cage...well baby, you're already in that cage, you built it yourself, and it's not in Texas or out east it's wherever you go, because no matter where you go, you always end up running into yourself" Then they find the cat and they kiss, moon river plays and the camera pans out. People do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that's the only chance anyone's got for real happiness. 13) Joanna Newsom was standing at a bar and overheard us say “I’m 99% sure that’s Joanna Newsom.” 14) The man that invented the Hoodie, in a bar in Hampstead. Slow corrosion of something like dignity. I don’t scream or do anything, I still don’t know why. I won't let anybody put me in a cage." "I don't want to put you in a cage, I want to love you!" "It's the same thing!" "No, it's not...Holly..." "I'm not Holly! I'm not Lula May either...I don't know who I am. 12) Holly Hunter, overwhelmed on Charing Cross Road. 7) Judi Dench was standing next to me that day. Later I drink sugary coffee wrapped in a blanket on my living room floor, watching the last five minutes of Breakfast at Tiffany’s on repeat: "Holly, I'm in love with you" "So what?" "So plenty! I love you, you belong to me." "No, people don't belong to each other. 10) Judi Dench smiled at me from across the room 11) Tori Amos told me that she LOVED London on the phone in 2004. I put all my clothes in separate yellow bags marked EVIDENCE and wonder absently if anyone will judge me for wetting myself. 4) Athlete Kelly Holmes who scorned me. Credits Roll. Gravel, hands, face. You're afraid to stick out your chin and say 'life's a fact'. Four Policemen sit behind me, patiently watching me rewind the tape and them saying ‘um, we can call the woman police officer if you want.’ Nobody gives me the right response so I sit in the dark listening [Tori Amos]. 9) Dermot Mulroney’s sister, who had a whirlwind holiday romance with my uncle. Behind which leap the dead whom we forget and walk over. I realise I have been sitting on sofas, in charis and policecars for hours with a soaking wet skirt. 8) Mike Fielding from The Mighty Boosh, even smaller than usual that night. Gravel, hands, face. 1) Country singer Nanci Griffith who gave me a t-shirt at the Cambridge Folk festival in 1988 because I was sooooo cute. I turn my head to look at the pieces of my phone cracked three feet away from me. Twenty minutes later I’m on the floor soaking wet, naket, gagging. Tights were pulled down groping dumbly on the pavement. They joke that I am overweight. I'm like cat here, we're a couple of no-name slobs, we belong to nobody and nobody belongs to us, we don't even belong to each other" blah blah blah "you know what's wrong with you, Miss...whoever you are? You're chicken, like: hands, gravel, face. I was walking blind, not by love but something like it I guess.

P-A-Y-A-T-T-E-N-T-I-O-N-!

"Under the pressure of sex and addiction, bodies explode or mutate, protoplasm is sucked out of cocks or nostrils, plots are hatched to take over the planet or nearest life-form. Borroughs anticipates Frederic Jameson's claim that an information society is the purest form of capitalism. When bodies are constituted as information, they can be not only sold but fundamentally reconstituted in respose to market pressures. Junk instantiates the dynamics of informatics and makes clear the relation of junk-as-information to late capitalism. Junk is the 'ideal product' because the 'junk merchant does not sell his product to the consumer, he sells the consumer to his product. He does not improve and simplify his merchandise. He degrades and simplifies the client. .' The junkie's body is a harbinger of the postmodern mutant, for it demonstrates how prescence yields to assembly and disassembly patterns created by the flow of junk-as-information though points of amplification and resistance.'
N. Katherine Hayles, How We Became Posthuman



In other news, a man spilled his coffee on my pink leggings on the train to work this morning.

warburton wrath

DOWN with WARBURTONS CRUMPETS, a little more expensive than the supermarket own-brand but so DOUGHY and full of PROMISE you imagine them filling your empty consumer expanse warming your sad heart DRIPPING with PB and BUTTER until they get stuck in your TOASTER and you have to turn it off at the PLUG to FISH them out with a knife BREAKING the machinery and only the GHOST of a crumpet you ONCE KNEW, all chewed up and BITTY of course by then they've cooled DOWN and the butter won't even MELT over the MANGLED CORPSE of a crumpet you once dared to call your OWN and looking at that crumpet you are forced to face the DISGUSTING MESS of your own life and you crumple HOPELESSLY before the plate GAGGING AND WRETCHING unable to face your own FRAILTY AND COWARDICE when all you wanted was a tasty snack.








and whilst I'm here, down with not being able to understand FLASH MX and those lazy cyberpoets full of BROKEN LINKS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

suicide

La Langousite Est Morte

The 4th in a series of evenings celebrating experimentation and innovation in poetics and fiction writing.

The Langoustine est morte series continues with another night of eclectic literature, music and performance with an international, multi-lingual scope. This month features an all female line up with performances by Valeria Melchioretto, Sundra Lawrence, Sascha Akhtar, Sophie Robinson and Lane Ashfeldt. Hosted by Sascha Akhtar.

a well-balanced three stanza poem reflecting on the 'Monday' phenomenon.

All Th ik8 s Ksskin ato KSin con ta ct i s mKaking m em Nervss .

you don't mind

if I flicker into a different network for a sec -
sexy like homebaked bread,
electrode on the raw skin where a fingernail should be -
that sort of thing -

do you?