draft for speculative #3

Roger you loved me as a wife would (one of his mates
on the street cheques a shirt) even the balustrades were silent:
‘only the life i lead’ they heard & it’s quite obvious
about that

ho-hum the fur-coat is always open, still this business of dying always
has to be rather rude (i glanced at Roger (oh people who grub around,
lean forward intently) while he offered me a cigarette) a ‘dead end’
as one says…
as mine had just begun their
quest ended, within a house, a slash of scarlet lipstick for
the mouth over every object each curve or angle like
railway cut into land. I should not be alone.

i dialled Skjoldvik once / raised the country. raised there
in the backdoor of my undoing she could do what she liked:
good natured but damned if you touch

Two-worlds can act as stimulant & I suggest you stay put. Get acclimatized
Get more plausible. I plucked the report from his
Nameless fingers ‘What other pretty things are you yet to eliminate,
Psychologically speaking?’

today was wednesday while hard-pressed to keep any week
i was tremendously glad to see you / rain petered out / on waking
i understood / we’ll go away / very cold & just beyond it, light / a minute
or two perhaps to gather up our things…
i’ve been so happy this previous year / or seven pages / i take a flying
jump & hide it in your skirt, in act one, in some speech / like
‘electronics my arse’ / having buried your mother only admit
visitors on the ground floor / frown your greatest pleasure

damn it (the student) has written (in brackets)

overcome swimming later: yesterday i woke

for the first time i marry her wanting to swim
at once wanting & beckoning the tarantella (colours
in his head) he leaned back, closed his eyes…
music is heard & howls of execration & crashes to the
floor

now
there is no question of the garage, or
fish for lunch or if the sky has changed as
i recognise people catching up on the ‘gulf war’
no question he’s in there now / the kettle will boil (
let’s get moving (we townspeople (i ran a little shop) are
lucky enough having studied this man’s soul / blue-trousers
his wife’s very attractive

.

cooee

i went to
ripley’s believe
it
or not world
(underneath the
gold-coast)
once

like a fish-
with-glasses
it
sucked.

today’s email mentions
stray poems

once
lost / now found.
i might

complete
the collecting of
things yet.

ripley.

.

ctrl alt del

i recently had some cheese-biscuits. they were like the biscuits of yore.

the idea yawns / gets bored stupid quick

restore a proper narrative / an education revolution
to borrow a phrase / the opposition leader
not a story without blemish

.

only truths

robin smacks dr. phil
around all around
the house & the yard &
even those houses
he puts dysfunctional
couples in they go there
to get it on in all the
different rooms of the
houses they plan to
tape & edit it but robin
she gets peeved at phil
& the passive-aggressive
way he plans the porn
scenes so she beats him she
beats him until he cries it’s
not funny it’s quite serious
they keep it quiet though
there’s their reputation to
think of also happiness

.

blood pudding press

why not go here & get a copy of [GROWLING SOFTLY]?

a ‘tantalizing, disturbingly delicious ribbon-bound, one-off, get-you-off poetry magazine’.

with a couple of my poems in it…

alright then.

.

gog

nice to see the ‘e’ comments come in. i think my favourite is the first one from emma (e) ‘enamel’. i don’t know why. of course nothing is decided. there’s a particular font i’m thinking of purchasing, & so the eventual title will have to appear pleasing in this type. all your suggestions have been noted & will be further considered.

i’m reading 8 books at the moment, non-academic reading, if there is such a thing. half are poetry, half are not. i keep misplacing them. i find a stray book in a bag i used last week. it can be a nice surprise, so i dip in, read a couple of poems. but i haven’t actually finished a novel in ages. i’m reading books by alice pung, christina stead & david eggers. i really must finish one soon, if only for my own sense of myself as ’someone who finishes things’. maybe after this book is published & launched (& you are all invited):

detestably sporadic

say i was to produce another chap for the end of the year. say, for whatever reason, i had title this chap with a word beginning with the letter ‘e’. what would you say the title should be?

.

books

i sent a poem to papertiger once, & it came back rejected, 12 months later. i thought much less of the poem by then, so that was good.

i sent something else to them recently & it came back (rather quickly) with a message explaining the advertised publication would not be produced at all, that the quality of material received was lacking. as a publisher i don’t think you can do that, but, it is done…

anyway, one thing they’re doing well is the soi3 modern poets series. i got my 3 books in the mail today, & have been dipping into them. (each book came with a bookmark too, so this concurrent reading is enabled). the design quality is outstanding, & it seems that the three poets in this series have all written very different, yet equally significant books. i am already familiar with the work of david prater & mtc cronin. i am less familiar with the work of barry hill, but i do find his poetry editing in the australian ‘interesting’.

i wil be saying more on some, perhaps all of these books in the future. once i get the board of postgraduate studies off my back.

this post is surprisingly uneven. i like that about it. if you don’t, leave a complaint.

.

dancing reality

once i fell triffids & tripods pursuant once
we landed in that magnetic lips proximate
sex position (with shaking danger all around
clouds played along like a perfect contrast
setting grass lay back in the noise as if fake
with such intensity (one violin note issues
from your breath (i thought of the drama
& it throwing us together (me down (once)
it feels lucky just right presto cool & if you
had to die in this escaping dance (only once
in a knowing momentum (so what

.