dementia III

it ends with the wrong vowel for it to be as inert as tao. without its isochronal “o” this insoluble tau u-turns into void. I dow know worr’e’s on abowt ‘alf the time. yoo ‘av’ t’ave cold ‘ands to mek pastry. dow yow tell fibs…I waar. n’ I ay. fibrillary tangle of & & &…gone!…

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dementia II

now ‘ow’d I do it agen : “that” then that or that then “this” then “that”? nan’s head’s a sack of cabling smeared in lard. plaques harden like bacon grease gluing memories in a lump. when did the lump become a lump? the excruciating breakage of familiarity. the world turned uncanny as protein gluts brain…

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dementia I

When my grandma died from COVID in December, she’d also spent many years descending into dementia. After listening to a 6 hour long ambient album called Everywhere at the end time by a musician from Manchester called The Caretaker, which attempts to sonically represent the slow declension into dementia, I decided to write a series…

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Dimethyltryptamine

Recently I was provided the opportunity to smoke DMT, one of the most confounding & intense experiences of my life. It is difficult to reconcile the out of body, death-like experience with the simplicity of this ubiquitous compound, found in mammal brains & numerous plants, including acacia. I felt death. On coming out of the…

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between noisescapesilence

Haven’t written a poem for a while, but this has emerged in the last few weeks. Very much a sensory response manifesting out of my studies into my actual encounters & affiliation with a world of objects, object-sound, object-smell, object-taste. between noisescapesilence   the extractor fan           in the bathroom   is too loud     its             loudness…

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Bodies

Another poem written after I returned from Korea. This poem is an attempt to realize poetically, Tim Morton’s replacement term for ‘nature’, the symbiotic real. Morton’s reasons for abandoning the word nature & the (capital N) baggage with it, is owing to the erroneous perception that nature is somewhere, or some state, we need to…

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Meaninglessness

I think this is one of only a handful of poems I have written since moving to Exeter, to study. Somewhat influenced by Camus, his persuasive Absurdism, which to me has always been a methodology to encourage an acceptance of life as ultimately meaningless; this isn’t something to despair over. It is only meaningless in…

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Human Flourishing

The title is misleading, sarcastic. This poem is a response to a talk by some guy called Alex Epstein, who started something called The Human Flourishing Project. Alex believes nonrenewable energy sources are the reason for human flourishing. The rise in population (which he seems to think good because that means humanity is flourishing), health,…

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