Friday, June 28, 2013

Michael Mc Aloran - All Stepped/Undone

All Stepped – UndoneMichael Mc Aloran
Oneiros Books
150 pp
Link to purchase

In this new collection from Michael Mc Aloran we are granted a glimpse of what the obscene dead hand scribbles before, having writ, it rots back to the complacency of the stolid tradition that tells us to love the nothing since it does not exist and we are what we are a short promise of eternity. Mc Aloran's poetry insistently directs its empty indexical dead finger at this recalcitrant nothing coming to fuck promises up.

Incarnation and the corporeal is a disease whose dreams readily assume the aspect of inevitable nightmare, we are condemned to be meat, not free, we are condemned to our ration of idiocy and there will be suffering enough for almost anybody, even the most demanding of masochists.

coffin heart
laid out

settled as if to fall/ absently
a meat hook absolute

The point is that the author is “laughing my suicide unto death” - there is no good except what we can extract from the humor of the situation, the repetitive emphasis upon the gory detail and the stench of the shit. The shit is to be found everywhere, of course. How many things are we presented with, from preschool and onwards, that are not, in some plain sense, tending towards the brown?

The history of ideology, education, and culture is more or less a story of sewage, told by sewage and sweating its cowardly stench of survival under a feculent summer sun. Little turds marching over the onwards and downwards creep of humanity like mindless little Orangemen screaming their psychosis through the blind eyes of all the sexless virgins that ever birthed a meaningless love of Jesus.

There are many references here just to the whole progress of everything through nursery rhymes - all falling down, I spy, and so forth – the eye/i is repeatedly present, the dumb observing sense that devours, that eats the shit it sees according to the gustatory epistemological metaphors that Sartre said. The author, the poet, should be a dodgy and resentful cook or waiter who whacks off copiously right into the nosh that is presented to the reader as she sits there, a dreadful idiot anorexic awfully hungry for knowledge. And all the knowing s/he gets but nothing.

of thin dreaming-

(as of…)

the whittled speech of

but one

in ash of unbecoming airs

a sleight of

a dead echoing

filling out
the eye’s thin


For what is given is less that the gut of the ego needs, the replete guru will never climb perfect out of the skeleton and become more than the skinny hunger of words and the sketchy stick figure that missing Psyche is. and there is nothing beyond this. Everything that the nothing is the specific nothing of has always been nowhere and not available to us because man is always and forever the lack.

traces/ lights excluded/ there’ll yet be another none/
basking/ in the air of// climate as of unknown breath/
the sky’s emptiness/ coating the absent tongue

After the meat malfunctions there is interminable nowhere where we are not, until then we are waiting for Godot rooting around in a pissoir with knives looking for suffering to cut into, obstinately not being the other.

excessive night/ of the abattoir/ how the laughter
builds in the pregnancy of none/ birthing a whore of
silence/ and words/ to slide finally away from

coffin of blood/ coughing up the artery’s

It is almost conceivable that the reader will be oppressed by a certain sense of negativity in this book, but in that case I will have to ask her whether she lives in a world where the children who play on summer's meadows in fact play thus for all eternity. A world where we are not snatched from psychosis only be the happy accident of death from some disgusting cancer or murder.

gardenias/ death’s heads/ a serrated edge/ nothing
less speaking so clearly as was/ hence life pissing blood
laughs the leg off the sacrificial lamb

There is no eternity, but there is some fun to be had pissing blood. Here is your order and where to obtain it. It'll be a few minutes, sir. Would you like some cum on that?
Buy it here.

Friday, June 21, 2013

Icebox revamped

Pleased to say that one by me is due in the print newsletter from Icebox Journal. They have also revamped their design and here are the poems I have there. It's a great new layout that emphasizes the work and the writer, very well done people.

It's a shame that so many zines don't do this sort of job and thus emphasize adverts, or whatever, and sometimes even go so far as to annoy the reader with distracting, and usually exceedingly crappy, music.

Icebox is a zine that focuses on philosophical or intellectual poetry with some theoretical bite. Great work, as I said.

Friday, June 14, 2013

A New Ulster 9

I see that there are five by me in A new Ulster 9, a great zine as always, both available in print and free here at the link.

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Randomly Accessed Poetics

I submit almost nothing, or relatively little, to zines and so forth nowadays, since I am concentrating on books and so on. Randomly Accessed Poetics, however, will have one by me in issue 3, and another appearing online in 2014 at some point. It's a good place to be so I'm rather pleased by this. 

Sunday, June 9, 2013

Mung Being 50 - Names

Now the half century issue of Mung Being is available for your reading. Or perusal, as people say, unaware of the connotations of that word.

Here is a very sensible recommendation from editor Mark Givens, and here three poems by me.

As always, the issue displays huge awesomeness.

Here is other work by me in the archives of the zine.

Friday, June 7, 2013

the art of being human

There is a new anthology out called The Art of Being Human. I am in volume three, which is here for preview or purchase. The other two volumes of this anthology and works by editor Daniela Voicu are here.

Pleased to be in it.

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

Mung Being

Issue 50 of Mung Being is coming shortly, pleased to say there will be work by me in it. Here is a link to my earlier stuff in said zine.

Monday, June 3, 2013


Most pleased to have three posted in the excellent zine Pyrokinection.

Saturday, June 1, 2013

Twitter: @David_C_McLean

Well, it being 2013 still i got myself a Twitter: