fuck the doubters
fuck the doubters who do nothing but doubt fuck the shouters who do nothing but shout know that without us they’d have nothing to talk about they forward bad news and they upset the view they act like your muse but report…
Month: September 2019
My Poetry
I think I got accused once of writing cat and cuddling poems, or some such thing that tried to relegate me and my relevancy to a weird nether-region of the literary landscape where writers of doggerel and greetings cards laugh at the…
The Artist And The Acts
It really is hard sometimes to divorce the work from the artist, and there is a point where you wonder whether if you took everything in your home that had a problematic association and burnt it, whether you would have anything left.…
get
there are things you should not say write about be part of do how are you pulling through? blimp head with advertised thoughts over the heads of insular forts this movement and that movement with little improvement the third act gun, the…
Another Erewhon
He sat down at the edge of the lake and he pretended that it was a mirror that he might throw reflections into that would never come back, or which would at least store them under the jetty like a floater for…
concrete blindness
you, brief explosion you, mis-target heart you, somewhere in the dark a half translated movement from a full realised collapse like a synapse fried for nothing there are fortune cookies burning there are doves dipped in sunset blood and all of them…
Never Play Just One Note
Catharsis poetry has its place, and what I think of as head music poetry, like-wise has some value. But there can be a strain of poetry that is both intellectually and emotionally informed that neither has to be lacking in backbone or…