Tuesday, April 30, 2013

The Shwibly

Delighted to have three forthcoming in The Shwibly, which is a great zine with a lot of other great writers in the debut issue, as you can see here.

Friday, April 26, 2013

The art of being human

Although I am not particularly proficient at said art, a great thanks to Daniela Voicu for taking three poems and an ugly photo for inclusion in the anthology this group is doing, It's due in May or June this summer, here is their Facebook page.

I feel that the conventional understanding of the art of being human was perfectly stated by Larkin in "This be the verse". The link goes to the Poetry Foundation.

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

exquisite corpses

Here is the promised exquisite corpse at Sein und Werden. Part two is me. There are other sexy stiffs there too.

Sunday, April 21, 2013

Zombie Logic

Hugely pleased to have five up in Zombie Logic Review, the online presence of the laudable Zombie Logic Press. Here they are.

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Gillian Prew - Throats full of graves

Gillian Prew
Throats Full of Graves
Lapwing Publications
chapbook review by David McLean

This is a brief review of the latest production by the Scottish poet Gillian Prew, in my opinion the best female poet currently active.

Her liminal love with its dug arms
scoops the red roots of the tight trees
where her best wedding was throttled and laid,
and her lit loss burns in her brain
scorching the slow madhouse of her days.


It might be appropriate that I modestly neglect to refer to a poem in this book that is about me, namely “In the garden with a poet”. I shall, however, refrain from doing the modest thing and mention it.

Days are here – untidy. That is the beauty
of light: it illuminates the mess
for embracing. We are

a long time nothing. There is no place
to exhibit the night like a sword.


This because it exhibits clearly, in these closing lines - which are much better than anything I have done recently - the terrible predicament of those like Ms Prew and myself, who are atheists and might like to be logically precise, when we affect to produce the “poetic”,  When “we are a long time nothing” the word “we” no longer applies to us, time and our world has ceased and probably only Larkin has ever succeeded in saying this properly, in “Aubade”. Of course, I object dreadfully to the term “poet” as a sortal, it identifies no clear class of objects; it is usually little more than a dreadful piece of self-promotion. Were I ever, per impossibile, to make a living by poems, I might allow the description on Derridean grounds - “It's me job, like” - but not as a token of self-ascribed excellence.

More seriously, in another poem, Prew writes

I, like a slow thaw in the garden where
all this started under the sun yesterday
(or years ago) There is

a simmering vitality that permits persistence,
that allows healing and the adoration of wounds


This is close to the essential, the reflexive wallowing in despite and self-contempt that is the essence of anything interesting in literature. The glorious puny assholes who fall down in their sheer stupid debility waiting for some cunt Godot who never even shows, they are so much more beautiful than any alleged poetic perfection:

There is no destiny worth hoping for.

There will be death, and
in the meantime life. What rages
inside is something
if we are lucky
else,
do not fear
or love,
or bother to breathe.


The metaphor of interiority is acceptable here, of course, although I assume the inside to be the consciousness that spreads outside the alleged real. The poems here are of seasonal mortality, or, more precisely, of facticity and thrownness, of being there in this confusing admixture of earth and world that colors memories ideologically and insists - with the simmering vitality that is the sheer denial of entropy that even the simplest organism is - on taking a shot at perdurance, an attempt that is doomed to failure since the ultimate victory of entropy will become the ordered beauty of perfected and, necessarily, unobserved disorder. If we could perdure, this would be spoiled. But there is a pointless meaningless beauty in the striving, one which expresses itself in the laudable futility of poetry, at which Prew kicks serious ass, with poems like this one, of “Memory”:

Bud of the quiet dead, lifting
light from the black-bitten wound. A grief,
a lie a dry, futile church. You are a ruin
of tears and ragged distances. A hidden.
A scarred truth roaming bone. You fail
with a brave despair
like widowed songbirds, their throats full of graves.


The need for miracles, as Prew says, is abject. What actually is, is enough. if one does not multiply entities beyond necessity one can still populate a poem.

I think this may be Prew's best yet, which means that you should buy the thing. It's not out yet, but here are details:
http://gillianprew.com/forthcoming-from-lapwingpublications/

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Gutter Eloquence

There's a great issue of Gutter Eloquence up, and there's work by me in it here. It's an absolutely awesome zine as always, a quarterly nowadays, and it's full of underground ratty goodness.

Sunday, April 7, 2013

Mung Being 49

There's a new issue of the great Mung Being out, it's an enjoyable read as usual, and poems by me are posted here


All my work in the zine and updated bio here.


Friday, April 5, 2013

A New Ulster

There's a new issue of A New Ulster out, an awesome zine as always, and five by me in it. It's here at issuu.

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Pyrokinection

Happy to say that the 3rd of June will see three by me posted in Pyrokinection, which you can check out now if you like, it's an excellent site.

pornSad

Pleased to say that later today five poems by me are coming in pornSad, a new zine run by the great Barton D Smock. Updating later.


Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Cuib-Nest-Nido

Pleased to say that there is work by me in the new Cuib-Nest-Nido, it's coming at this link today. Thanks to Daniela Voicu. 

There are five poems by me on page 14, and a picture of awesome ugliness.  It's a great with and a lot of work in English in it.

Monday, April 1, 2013

Mung Being

The theme of the next Mung Being is books, whatever those are, and I took a chance and submitted. 

Three by me will be appearing in the next issue, issue 49. Here is a link to other work by me that has previously been featured in the zine along with a picture of myself and Oscar, the amazing faltulent dog, in my updated bio.