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…
Read MoreYeongsil hiking trail (1:12 p.m.)
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…
Read MoreIn the empty park…
∞ 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…
Read MoreWho put a magnet in the loin…
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…
Read MoreKicking the old year into the new
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…
Read MoreA funeral rite was once an art…
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…
Read MoreA miserable git no quarrel there…
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…
Read MoreThe Wreck of the Wallace
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…
Read Morefirefly
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…
Read MoreSilent Hook
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…
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