dementia V

there is nan’s visible neurosis as she tremblingly lifts the lid of the laptop & eyeballs the dark screen turning into action sponging from her a vision hemmed in worlds of hard borders. she never switched one on before & now nan’s doing so in a dream of mine in which I call out but…

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dementia IV

nan cursed grandad for leaving on a trip to heaven without her. he fought tooth n’ nail against leukaemia & prostrate cancer. —nan survived grandad & couldn’t cope with it. wen I ger’up there I’m gunna throttle him into next week. I always found it funny how nan assumed the calendar in heaven mimics earth’s.…

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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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Noise II

ring tones & motorbikes chatter like angry macaques. cars purr like horny lions in the formation of offensive elephants. buses blare like confident ostriches in devastating clans of particles. clockwork objects sound the sounds of wildernesses aggregating. there are inversions in the world : vastly populated worlds beneath the “world.” it will take evolutionary events…

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Noises

even the seagulls have begun to rev like motors their urgent apocalyptic craws embed the cathedral green in the revelatory compass which points to doom : the bins gushing with liquescent detritus. the crow rickshaws & the magpies pummel the air pneumatically. the trees inhale like air-brakes on buses. the seasons conveyor-belt & churn out…

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Stratified replies #1

What follows is practice in formulating an aesthetic method for packaging my thinking process, which is informed by my current peripatetic reading. I tend to read something and consider how it might be the gambit for a potential essay. It is then dumped on a pile of other such ideas, because I don’t have time…

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Phasing in & out of Subscendent Wholes

My dissertation has been handed in & now I am flooded with mild anxiety. It hadn’t really occurred to me that most people write about authors long deceased. John Wedgewood Clarke is very much alive and active; as are the sources I cite, in large part. Only Heidegger & Derek Parfit are the exceptions. This…

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