typingspace

my new poem is up in cordite 36: electronica, edited by jill jones. i’m gonna spend the morning doing some electronic reading.  

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the otter-like teacher liked to bitch about other staff & the way they parked their vehicles. nevertheless, we were eventually told about writing. we were told never to seal the story with ‘it was all a dream’. i distrusted the advice. i distrusted the advice to the extent that now present-day-people tire of me talking [...]

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‘Brennan’s defence of obscurity reminds me that the verb, to obscure, suggests one thing covering or hiding or displacing another thing. The one who runs will trip over and roll their ankle; the one who walks will find a way through the unanticipated arrangement.’ read more of Astrid Lorange on Christopher Brennan in Jacket2

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begin awkward-phrasing data crunch (your poetry feels too… equine). inject a Strathmore liberality. travel by rail, fake ‘looking’, then blame the ticketing system. flounder in the bus- wet air, locate salvation in a mate’s boyish shouting, a blossoming arc across Pitt Street. cross Pitt Street. eat a sandwich. digest naught. order a schooner, two, feel [...]

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. i like you she says. i do. . hydroptic red in early spring, night blossoms a swale of invisible men. perverts, scrim in the visible, blowsy on breath as if nosey landscape loggia: as finches we crozzled fine necks at supine sky, a slanted fuck-gyrus, bruised after-that. . double towns & subtextual glances sort [...]

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