Wednesday, July 29, 2009

Whistling Shade Summer 2009

Pleased to say that Whistling Shade Summer 2009 is up, one by me there, copies can be obtained by contacting them, but it's free online too, and it's here.

Wednesday, July 22, 2009


Pleased to say that 2009's L'Intrigue is being posted, work by me, four poems, here. It will be an excellent issue.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Leaf Garden Press

There's work by me, three poems, in issue three of Leaf Garden Press which can be downloaded, ordered in print, or read online through various links which you can reach via this link. Much other work there, of course, including, among many others, Puma Perl.

Fantastic Horror interview

Hellbound is soon printed and there is a new interview of me by Alan Kelly just posted at Fantastic Horror I'm happy to say. Direct link is here.

Friday, July 17, 2009

Sex & Murder

whatever you may believe and for Edmund Kemper, a tribute to my favorite killer, a guy who would whack you like the little whore you are, are up at Sex & Murder now, The 1st issue is here.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Off Beat Pulp

Pleased to say that Off Beat Pulp will have a thing by me in next issue, making a total of 900 poems accepted since I submitted for the first time two and a half years ago. Excluding (quite) a few accepted by zines that promptly vanished off the face of the earth or virtual earth.

Gutter Eloquence

In the next sexuality themed issue of Gutter Eloquence Magazine a poem sexuality and cognition by me will be appearing, for now I have wiork and there's plenty of first rate stuff in issue four.

Fragile Arts Quarterly

Delighted to say that Fragile Arts Quarterly will have five poems by me in their issue around 15th September this fall. Check them out since they are a great and relatively new zine. It's the fifth issue, I believe, that is in question.

Monday, July 13, 2009

Jack Henry - with the patience of monuments (book review)

Jack Henry
with the patience of monuments
Neopoiesis Press

It seems time that Jack Henry produced a full length book, and here it is. These poems are autobiographical and also, since we all live in some society, they reflect the agent Henry's milieu. The autobiographical self-focus is not a weakness, since they are sufficiently universal to strike a chord in every locus of agency, perhaps not in showroom dummies, but would a writer really want that?

perhaps i’m like Jesus,
during those middle years
no one writes about,

from books the church decided
were best left unread, because
i think Jesus did shit no one wants to remember,
(very next breath)

Well, Jesus is not a historical figure, so you can say that it did whatever you want. All we know from the myths is that his spirit occasionally “enters” people when it feels like it, though he has been dead a long time, so there's no guessing how horny he was during his fictive lifetime.

Jack concludes that poem with the reflection

there’s a chance i am just a mirror,
broken on the floor in a symphony of silver shards,
awaiting the dust pan and a trip to the curb

n the end it doesn’t matter,
because once i discover who i am,
it changes with the
very next breath,
and the next breath
carries the rattle of a dying man
(very next breath)

and that's what I mean about general accessibility. A human consciousness sparks self-awareness by Sartre's circuit of ipseity, and generates the ego that we find outside us, in the world, the selfness itself is something little more than the tain of black foil that backs a mirror, when the brain dies it shatters and we throw the useless flesh away instead of eating it (we have issues with that, most of us anyway.) But what is significant is the cognitive content that has been instantiated in the bucket of worms we scoop out of the skulls of poets before juvenile writers use them to jack off into, and I think that Jack has here another poem that will keep, that belongs to the history of poetry.

Jack steers clear, as writers should, of Poesie, these poems are Dichtung, not just the making of poiemata, they are a stepping back and a holding and an openness that lets Jack create and dispose the words of his art in such a way that we see what was there but we did not see, they make what is other than it seemed by letting it show itself in the light of the poems as what it always was. Ironically Neopoiesis Press include a confused and lexically flawed reflection on a Heideggerean approach to the word "poiesis" as a sort of manifesto at the end of the book. But, like the philosopher who used to stalk Heidegger said, or said as near as dammit, what counts is the poet standing like a little quivering hedgehog, always already there having always already crossed the awe-inspiring Autobahn of Heideggerean poetic thought, or philosophical aesthetics in general, to deliver her/his poem. And Jack belongs to my generation in a sense, we'd quite like to be roadkill.

i don’t write poetry, or sonnets, or joyful
tomes about birds and butterflies, those words
are taken and mean less each time repeated
(rules to a game)

What we like to do is

pick scabs
and watch red trails
laze to the floor
with startling splashes

Jack presents poetry that captures the world as it is. Thus a perfect nihilism

2. to a specific man
there standing
a specific man
or woman
of straw
and gum
small temples
of sticks
and pie
of dead word
and metaphor
and climbing
yes i am
i am
i am i am
building and building
a specific man
or woman
it’s you i watch

3. there is no underground
no battlefield
no war
no battle
no conflict

there is no outside
or inside
no middle
no up
no down and down and down
(eulogy for the memory of an idea that never really existed)

But the man or woman building his temples is still building, even if s/he is biulding with shit, s/he is still there and still can say “am” and thus the poem ends with a qualified positive beginning, which is what life offers us since we are always new. That's the upside of being mere bundles of impressions and bogus nightmares and memories (to sample David Hume through the brighter lens of Eric Cartman) – we have no histories and the egos we carry with us can be smashed and thrown away, like the useless ugly faces of creators and doctors and priests and teachers, so

to the mirror i say:

“they never knew, nor understood -
it became an image they could not comprehend -
this is a eulogy for a memory of an idea
that never really existed
and when they awake
we will have to rediscover our
own footsteps
and cut our chain
to our bloody string of lies.”

to my future i say:

i will start again each day
i will awake and be ready
i will stretch and try
i will never care what another says about me
i will never look back
(eulogy for the memory of an idea that never really existed)

And beyond the nihilism there is much positive and beautiful here too, there is love, relationships, social criticism, everything handled perfectly, and it even gave me a chance to ramble somewhat in the review, but ...

I hope that it is clear by now that I think very highly of this book, and of Jack Henry's work in general. I think that this book will live a long time. It's a new beginning, just like the poem says. Buy it when it comes in a few weeks. Details at Jack Henry's blog.

Constance Stadler - Paper Cuts (book review)

Paper Cuts - book review
Constance Stadler
Calliope Nerve Press
93 pp, ebook

As always, in this collection Constance Stadler achieves a balance between modern content and a sampled traditional form, whereby the poetry runs through the lexis of the traditional but with neologisms and archaisms rubbing shoulders and thighs in a glorious mêlée that achieves often the status of poetry of the purest water.

Her targets are everything from Plato (completely unjustly, the poem could be about somebody else) to Jesus and the Society of same, completely spot on target. Modern life is dissected and diagnosed here, found lacking, the anxious and painful half-lives people live are examined and found wanting, the poet's own pain is examined and there is a clear movement in the course of the book towards a tone of understanding and acceptance, the attainment of beauty in some sense is seen as a justification of the anhedonia.

The book takes us from hospital to Gaza, exploring injustices on a variety of levels, Amerikkka's war on Iraq and society's war on the individual.

Everything falls under the poet's lens – passion:

My engorged vulva
Screams for jungle abductions
And whatever would take me
Could not plunge deep enough.
Brings shower and the routines
Of numbness.
That is, if I
Conquer this animal


Sepia catacombed
In sweet stench of young rot
The maggot is well fed.
Bloating, we are new made
In concatenated leprosies
In our mouldy hypocrisies
In the death bed lie.

the reticence of nature:

Grass tuft, will you not speak to me?
A blue and brown tit jumped on my table
Near the Arno and shared
My sandwich
As a full bosomed poppy floated by.
Wilted corn stalks in vermilion light
Thrill as magic
Snowy egrets dance in pond surrender
To cabbage palms.
(Terrestrial Illuminations)

This book makes love and passion in the face of sickness, dis-ease, bereavement and a more general ontic and ontological abandonment. It makes the word a lover and an expression of the body's engorgement, it makes the muse a bedfellow, and the reader a voyeur, which is what readers usually are, but not so openly expressed.

Only Constance Stadler writes like this nowadays, only she can. Available from

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Clockwise Cat - 3 of 3

And, last of three, Connie Stadler has been kind enough to review pushing lemmings. There are still copies, click the image over to the right to order the thing by PayPal. I can make my mark on it then. No anthrax though, I promise. Here is the review.

Clockwise Cat - 2 of 3

And then a whole SHITLOAD of reviews of four of the BEST poets you will read EVER. I shit you not.

James Darman

Connie Stadler

Jack Henry x 3

David Blaine

I don't do a lot of reviews any more but these degenerate and perverse fuckers all deserve it.

Clockwise Cat - 1 of three

Well, new Cockwise Pussy up. Yay! There's five poems by me in the first of this blogspot triptych. These are here, danke hardworking Alison Ross. Poems by Luis Cauahtemoc Berriozabal, Anthony Hitchen, Ralph-Michael Chiaia, and Petra Whiteley too.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Blinking Cursor

Blinking Cursor is now on sale here at Lulu and unfortunately even the download costs money. There are no contributor's copies so I can't say what it's like, I don't usually like to pay for copies of zines that I'm in. The days of that much egomania are gone, especially since I threw away about a hundred zines a year or so ago in connection with a move.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Poetry Monthly International 9

As promised, two by me are available as a free download now in issue #9 of Poetry Monthly International. Get it here for free or order in print for four quid. Some excellent work in that zine, as always.

Dark Gothic Resurrected

In keeping with my creepy proclivities I just had two acceptances at Dark Gothic Resurrected magazine, coming in the next issue. They specialize in horror and goth literature. Check them out.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Poetry Monthly International

Haven't submitted to Poetry Monthly International since it was plain old Poetry Monthly, but did now since I'm international and all that, two poems by me, if the woods and fungi, will be in the July issue which will be # 9 and available for download here where you can presently snatch #:s seven and eight, always an excellent zine. Print issues available for a mere four quid.

Gutter Eloquence 4

There's one thing now up by me at Gutter Eloquence 4, if they lied to us.