poems | essays | photographs
Lunch notes on the Selfie (noon-ish) …A Selfie with Biyang island behind her | a sea “glittery as jewels—ㅋㅋㅋ.” She shudders at the squeaky cute voices : this habitual conformity to “Selfie...ㅋㅋㅋ” | people queueing to take photos in designated “PHOTO OPPORTUNITY” areas. She deletes the photo & vows to take no more. The Selfie [...]
The above pic is not from Yeongsil Trail, but Donnaeko Trail, which is connected. The pic captures a hazy view of Seogwipo, the 2nd, other, southern city of Jeju. Donnaeko is, for roughly 6km a steep path, sheltered by dark umbrage most of the way—you suddenly come out of the trial & are met with [...]
∞ In the empty park the disused swimming pool is | for now | the home of a lone heron & a paddling of mallards. They listen for the wind rummaging in the grass & reeds | sweeping momentary dimples which pass like shadows over the slippered | gaggle of the adjacent ghyll curving through [...]
This should raise some discussion. ∞ Who put a magnet in the loin to watch it pulled clean through a mortared wall? The a cappella traffic gives mice & birds migraines— make(s) food a weapon! Younger poets are charmed by polysyllables : they’ve ample time to waste —am i still young or have i always [...]
i don't quite get New Year, hearing people's "goodbye" to an abstract stretch of moments & welcoming new time like a new pair of underwear. It always saddens me how we take time for granted, so much so that we celebrate the death of it. i don't make resolutions, because i am always resolving to [...]
This is not a Christmas poem (i'll pretend that isn't happening), neither is it exclusively about Shelley, despite the Louis Edouard Fournier painting suggesting otherwise. i suppose, if the man being cremated is a poet, then the funeral rite, through contagious magic, becomes a work of art. ∞ A funeral rite was once an art but [...]
One of them difficult poems i've been banging on about lately. ∞ A miserable git no quarrel there | Larkin the everyman’s bard, the lad the lark Going, going — i see what he was driving at | it came to pass : our tarmac | clogged up vagus nerves & ventricles the fields fenced [...]
Another from The Wallace Variations. After too much time in the spotlight of the media, Wallace needed to get away & visited me in Jeju. The Wreck of the Wallace He was a salvaged man in my B&B, the media’s attention started getting on his tits, he needed to escape interrogation & so took temporary [...]
firefly ㅕ instead of reading Heidegger or Edward Young i listen to Suzanne sung by Simone her piano, subdued as the gloaming, the distant neon steps of stars her minimal rhythm that fills limbs with move & sing along as throatily as possible in imitation of the nightingale Simone caged in her ribs stomp like [...]
talking about his novel Shark, Will Self explained that he set out to write Jaws without the shark. i am not entirely sure what he was getting at, but when i read the book i sort of understood his purpose: to have his narrative, a character's past circumstances developed & swivel around something articulated, but [...]
Novelist, travel writer, nature writer; lover of people and place.
“ There, I am desperately free and naive; but knowing this oh dear happiness, dear misery; there is no distinctive sign except that one tearing one’s heart, and a smile destined to nobody(...)" E.Stachura
all about travelling in korea
come lay down ink...
