A smashed up table and chairs lie piled

up against the wall in the gallery . . .

a sign reads 'Disappointment Number Seven'

In the same room, a wooden coffee table

has been neatly sawn in half, each half

is sitting on top of a washing machine . . .

a sign reads'Unresolved Conflict'

Right at the back of the room, a long

plank of wood is resting at an angle of 43 degrees

to the…

From: I/Thou ext. close up.



Because I love you and life

as it so appears

we all shall join hands and wish so fervently

a cure to all ills



of our own poverties, of time, money or madness



Because I love you and loathe life

I will enter the progressive stream

the sweetest wishes and embraces

of an iron maiden snapped shut



acupuncture needles ever surrounding me 



because you love me, and life

you will…

Sound to reed,
waves through a wonder of chiaroscuro

in a mangrove a musician goes duckhunting

specious to the angry mallard
foot aspurred and a violent fuck

on closing in to an open throat of night security

do you have my number? the oboist shuffles

through their oh so kitschy rolodex
"where was their name again
Al, Alex, Alan, Allan, Alen, Alen, Alen, and Allen"

 

Charles Mingus hermetic,

collective Mingus and many collectives of Mingii

3-d planar tesselation

by customs, allow many shapes to inhabit

 

the only thing pure in this world is now under doubt,

by ontomathematics, where do they stand? 

quick, Where's Nature? 

Permutations nods about some wandering habit 

us, the rule of three, the gang of four, we have the One, to land on the two and

the filthy fives. Hunt…

A swashbuckler is a brave and flamboyant person that engages in daring and romantic adventures. We have always loved best our film swashbucklers who fight evil, endlessly rescue their significant others and save their less brave compatriots from certain death with lots of derring-do.

Even though we should recognise all…

Five pebbles lie on my bookshelf

to remind me of this trip, they

come from a beach,

a beach of small pebbles

all the way to the water's edge,

not a grain of sand in sight.

The early morning tide comes

rolling in, and I bend down,

sinking my right hand into the

Irish Sea, it is cold. Withdrawing

my hand I taste the saltwater

on my tongue, and I am

back again some fifty years

or more on that…

Brother, Brother and Brother

Brethren, please stand for

the chop.



The name of the rose was

Love

and a whole lot of shaking, shushing and STFUing

going on.



And who is to say you have no apetite for distraction,

and do not we



all

 

at some time wish to be herb to

mortar and pestle

to the mixmaster blender

for an easy pesto, ay?



Black and Gold label pasta, staple of champions

until wiser…

Hark, what lite through yonder Windows break,



It is the East, and her name is Juliet Capulet,



HTML! the rhyme, in what'sinhername!



Romeo, oh why was thy file not found,

escapeth the family confines,

of your well-to-do patrician Montagues,



O, heaviness, man, in linux,

and linux in heaviness,



Tybalt, prints off Macs, default is yours!

No, sire, you shall walk next to the wall

as I have right of way upon the bold hand…

Winner

Skye Loneragan –…

So what else is new?! Sorry Adrian but this has been a point of discussion since before the anthology Mother I'm Rooted (ed Kate Jennings) came out in 1975 to the 'embarrassment' of so many...male poets?

Anyway I'm glad you brought it up because not a lot has changed in terms of editing, cliques and power. What has changed I think is the emergence of so many strong women poets—whether they are anthologized or not! N.S.

The overloud talker sets the mood,

Her life and times cringe forth,

The carriage fills with tales of torture.

Across the way the music man is sitting,

Head throbbing with moronic mutterings,

He's plugged into portable suffering.

In front, a suburban family of seven

Go through their daily dose of pantomine,

Complete with five kids running amok !

Next to them the lovers lie low

Uttering paeans of…

I am an open book.

Turn those dried, crisp leaves and read sordid tales

Of my past and scribbles for the future.

Don't judge me by the smudges that scar the reading.

Where tears have splashed the ink across the page and

Obliterated the passions of that hour.

Perhaps, you will be able to fill blank spaces

Where my tired soul has omitted to make mention of 

Trying times that needed too much of an explanation.

On…

2 crooked veneers

plunge the mattress surface.

From behind, totalitarian misery

devours, enjoying weeds and thorns.



I’ve found a handbook for the lonely,

the ingredients are spiteful.

But, neatly folding the wise man’s blouse

I lean in to smell the pages.



Now ants come surging under the door

in kaleidoscopic waves, swelling with desire.

There isn’t time to show them

but we’re seeping through the callico.



Suck, suck, suck! Then, a…

There's been a bit of discussion today about the new VIDA stats on gender bias in various journals.

Here's what the stats look like for BlackInc's…

FINDINGS…

The smallest thing

that twitches,

tweets or trembles

on branch or leaf

can trigger my

imagination.

For those small

things have more

mystery and magic,

not to mention the

wisdom of the ages

in them than all of

the 'Big' things we

hold near and dear,

the electronic, supersonic

inter-galactic bits of

plastic that encapsulate

our known world,

hand held gateways

to…

Let's speak a common tongue.

Erase boundaries and barriers

That have bred deep trenches

And left hearts and minds

Bristling with the hurt; the rage and the hate

That politicians exploit  to strengthen the "STATE".…