“What if plastic could be integrated into sea life? The Beauty directed by Pascal Schelbli is a poetic journey through the oceans, which are simultaneously stunning and filthy. Discover a world where concerns and fears dissolve into the mysterious depth of the polluted blue sea…”
The management company decreed that there should be an inspection of all the units in the building, just the safety appliances you understand, just a moment of your time, you need not even be home and truly we’d rather you were not. And so it was that I was home to receive that knock at the door for that brief inspection, truly brief, no longer than a rectal exam but alas even less pleasant…
Yet it did leave me feeling rather venomous toward the company and that brought to mind a long gone poetry ‘zine that I had subscribed to back in the day when I had hallucinatory aspirations to be a poet. I saved it for this poem by the late John Dickson. I saved it for just an occasion like this. I should have saved it with the aspiration to write as well as this:
Poetry & was edited by JoAnn Castagna. It was printed on newsprint and folded to letter size, an inexpensive way of printing a larger press run. I can imagine distribution being something more than a chore. In any case, I don’t recall the ‘zine lasting much beyond Volume 1.
Voilà. With this post, I’ve had a revenge of sorts, the best kind: mostly imaginary.
* Also, it was as much me as them. Regardless, Dickson’s poem addresses, in a general way, the relations involved.
this is not a poem
my task today
is to fashion
out of which may later
some pretty things
some clever things
some insights shared
maybe satori is
too much to ask
nuggets are enough
I was thinking, “Yeah… well…” but then I was hooked by the last line. Written and performed by Elizabeth Alexander, animation by Jocie Juritz:
doggerel about a cat
The catnip bird is carefully
Returned to me, who has been so
Careless as to let it fly across the room.
“Is it not good that you have a
Hunting cat, my dear and merely human?”
(he paused to lick his balls)
“Don’t bogart that ‘nip, my friend…
Let it fly again.
But never dare say fetch!”
Graphic by Roman.
A collaboration between Animator Jonathan Hodgson and Illustrator Jonny Hannah, based on a poem by Charles Bukowski.
What have they in common,
Those who are dead and those who live,
But blood and shit and shit and blood?
Whether dead or live or live or dead…
It matters not; we’re leaking bags of it.
Begging your pardon. This was inspired by some minor ongoing health problems that could be the subject of some geezer gossip… but I don’t know you well enough. However the circumstance brought to mind Aidan Hartley’s autobiography, The Zanzibar Chest, wherein he writes about his experiences as a war correspondent (a good and vivid read, as you might imagine). Out came this dismal bit of doggerel.
I think I’m in a bad mood.
“In a surreal synapse, a young woman laments her teen years, her home town and the death of a friend.” A film written and directed by Dani Pearce, based on a poem written and performed by Olivia Gatwood.
Re: above. I’m not sure about “friend”.
Photo / graphic by Roman
A painting here then gone:
More pointless hues upon
A wall oblivious to all.
It is not that I have no past. Rather, it continually fragments on the terrible and vivid ephemera of now.
— from Dhalgren by Samuel Delaney
I’m not sure that this is poetry, but it should be. It may as well be. It is truly amazing:
“Alan Bissett recalls the intense experience of growing up next to one of Europe’s largest petrochemical plants and the harrowing experience of an explosion that temporarily deformed his father.”
Directed, edited & composed by Adam Stafford
Written & performed by Alan Bissett
Filmed, produced & edited by Leo Bruges
Produced & edited by Peter Gerard