October 15th 2003
green rim
plate spring
onion
chili
cast here
binding
tongue burn
that I
miss in
the line
burden
risk frag-
ment track
over
road air
sweetness
and smoke
glass of
tea slight
lemon
taste on
tongue hold-
ing up
the day
Jill Jones, 2.15pm, Sydney
^^^^^^
SNAPSHOT
pmcmanus 08:03
raynes park uk
thanks john cage
^^^^^^^^
last night
that woman
read new
poems from
poems she
read through
their first
lines to
take them
elsewhere in
to her
own heart
land of
eccentric turns
of phrase
and choice
her family
will not
comprehend they
pray they
must resist
the turn
to every
freedom walk
she takes
through words
and life
Douglas Barbour
Edmonton Canada 07:50
^^^^^^^^^
BLOOD OF A POET [Jean Cocteau's]
Bouche de la statue,
lessons de vol.
One runs the risk
of becoming one himself.
Dargelos was the cock
of the walk.
Fist-blow was a snowball,
ainsi, at the heart,
profanation de la host,
of the nocturnal figure.
End elegance:
tedium of immortality.
Barry Alpert / Silver Spring, MD USA / 10-15 (12:08 PM)
^^^^^^^^
sausage and onions
was today's lunch
the andouillette is
composed of cow's
innards in a trans
parent skin that
spill out when you knife
or fork it a
poem is more like
a leaf-folded
onion erect on
its stem plate with
(like thoughts) in season
flowers & seeds
that sprout from its tip
procreating
allium cepa
sweet syllables
evoking seepage
rolling through all
in onion-shaped drops
i will not move my
army without
onions said grant so
if you know your
onions so rich in
pure quercitin
(theyre saving your skin)
ponder their worth
these layers of light
wrapped round a void
mine eyes smell onions
(hearts of the earth)
I shall weep anon
sorrow & mirth
mixing in droplets
falling & gone
Martin Walker~ Lagorce, post-prandial
^^^^^^^^
this morning still hours before the storm
moon moon basking large bright
spinning beyond finger's reach--
and I know I know more now but know
no better-- what's seen is merely
softened gloss past shifting
yes every atom down our shining
length was once grouped elsewhere
with other shining atoms down
other shining lengths
5:35 a.m.(EST) ,West Irondequoit, New York, United States
Gerald Schwartz
^^^^^^^^
I cannot remember because I was there
I can go back there and from here talk to you
and I can go to when I was reading about T.
and remember what I read and resume
at present the substance of past with swift
dislocating movements while sitting still
If I want to relate of here I have to get out
and move to a staring posture which is not now
indefinite and atemporal when the wind brings
me back and I repeat _the wind brings me back_
and type it
Anny Ballardini - 11.28pm
Bozen, Italy
^^^^^^^
SNAPSHOT 25
a result possibly
of global warming
regulus regulus
aka the goldcrest
is beginning to
settle in iceland
according to the paper
excellent news since
it thrives on the
invisible evil
pine weevil and
given time may
possibly restore the
colour of my pines
árni ibsen hafnarfjördur iceland 8:50 pm
^^^^^^
THE LURE
1
She wears
her heart
on her left
breast, pink
as her nipple,
as her organdy dress,
and pierced by an arrow
that could be the hook
for whatever fish. Try
not to look
at it, she says, try
not to touch it.
2
Later she tells me that she wears her heart
to keep her students focused
on what she has to teach them.
Mark Weiss, USA
^^^^^^^^
to her she is
"I'm likin' this
*Dirty Vegas* CD--
O ya kno--"
just sayin':
"Nice kinda Pink
Floyddy Brother
Cerulean zish +
more beat o hey!
street but yeah, plush--
unholy moss
to try out
gentling a new velvet
between notes
like patting chestnut
horses & few words
or (all six) walls--
an' ah
don't have to be
anywhere less'n
I want to
good mood it.
In a nice low flo
red dress.
Alot."
& me
I'm O walking in button
downs
on asphalt crumbs
& ear
just
so after two
curbs,
random beginnings of hubcap shoutout
potholes
no doubt Victorian
is a spray in a deodorizing manufactury
mall
somewhere past the cease-
less vanilla traffic
on Cooper
Street's welcome
to Omigod Arlington
Texas US
Chris Murray
Dallas, TX
1137 p.m.
^^^^^^^
I've just had Andrew Graham-Dixon on the phone,
droning on and on about how Alice Rawsthorn
was chosen to take part in the discussion
about the Turner Prize at Tate Britain
rather than him. 'And that bloody Tim Marlow...'
he blabs on (he's the guy doing the interview).
I thought it the prerogative of the artist
to be such a self-centred egotist
not that blood munching parasitic
insect, the bloody art critic.
Jeeeesus! I only became a conceptual
artist so that I could play my own oedipal
fantasies out in public. Take my, 'Mummy, mummy,
why don't you look at me?' (Various crash-test dummies
in a wide range of sexual positions.) Really,
that was just my way of saying: 'Me, me, me!'
What's the point of putting myself on the line
if some bloke with a smart suit, a PhD and a fine
way of talking to camera is going steal
the limelight from yours truly by the way he deals
with (my) awkward subject matter
through his own erudite & witty chatter.
Damn your eyes, Marlow, Dixon, Robert Hughes,
poking your noses into my own self-abuse!
Anton Brassiere, UK
^^^^^^^
--
Alison Croggon
Blog
http://alisoncroggon.blogspot.com
Editor, Masthead
http://au.geocities.com/masthead_2/
Home page
http://www.users.bigpond.com/acroggon/
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