thanks Bill sad day -I had communications with him over the years -he
actually lived quite near -but I never met him
On 01/03/2020 02:57, Bill Wootton wrote:
> Thanks for the news, Millicent, upsetting though it be. It is odd losing
> contact with people you never meet. Adding my commiserations to whomever, I
> have missed Lawrence's richly shambolic communications. Here is one such
> from 8 or so years ago which I saved.
>
> I have no snap. Again
>
> I offer this to be continued piece of prose invoking the etc in our title
>
> L
>
> *
>
> The first time she saw him, he was squatting at the far side of a half-lit
> room, fussing with his suitcase; and she thought of a fire-damaged sofa.
>
> There wasn’t any furniture near him; the room was almost empty; but she
> thought of him that way, a severely fire-damaged sofa.
>
> As she entered, so he stood, attempting to straighten himself; and, as he
> stood, some of the flame-blackening left him, seen now as abandoned
> shadow.
>
> Jutting springs and crumbling timber explained themselves visually; and he
> began to become a bipedal figure. Now she thought of him as a large baby
> with a beard.
>
> He walked towards her with a gawky expression, an extensive hand forward,
> ready to shake any hand she dare proffer. He seemed for a tick to have a
> multitude of limbs, but that was perhaps the way he lolloped as he walked.
>
> Maybe, she thought, he isn’t that tall.
>
> If she imagined herself ascended to a great height, far above the tallest
> building, then he might seem to be less abnormal. Go higher still and all
> was fine though much of him might seem mountainous when seen in the
> context of mountains. That was his shape.
>
> Accept the shape and the image of a baby returned. It was hard not to see
> him that way. He was after all smiling or something like it. It might be
> the best that he could do.
>
> He needs a cat, she thought. It was an opinion that she formed whenever
> she met someone who seemed not to own a cat.
>
> There was no loose fallen fur visible on the jacket as that enormity came
> close. He moved quickly, not quite jerkily, but everything about him had a
> form of suddenness. He was furniture; and then he was rising; and the
> briefcase hanging from his left hand seemed to be no larger than a
> teaspoon in comparison; but that was because he had crossed the room so
> rapidly.
>
> It would have to be a psychotic cat, or a cat reconciled to developing
> psychosis, if he did not change his demeanour.
>
> -----
> Lawrence Upton
> Visiting Fellow, Music Dept,
> Goldsmiths, University of London
> New Cross, London SE14 6NW
> ----
> Vale, Baby with a beard.
>
> Bill
>
> On Sun, 1 Mar 2020 at 04:05, Douglas Barbour <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>
>> Thanks for this, Millicent, a good remembering.
>>
>> Doug
>>> On Feb 28, 2020, at 4:29 PM, Millicent Borges Accardi <
>> [log in to unmask]> wrote:
>>> Characters in their own stories
>>> Characters in their own stories intermix
>>> on avenues of danger, those not in
>>> the frame invisible.
>>> Now, and then, one
>>> flees from us, becoming unreadable
>>> from a point of view. More’s discernible
>>> of those who stay, skewing interpretation.We have fun at carnival,
>> consuming that
>>> which might have grown fat, fearing death. That fear
>>> animates each. As we stir at our own fear.Some of us. Fragmentary
>> godlike words
>>> collide in test chambers where exponents
>>> of lies and terror clamber round others,
>>> anthropomorphic inhumanity,
>>> clinging. Indolence provides the ground cover,
>>> overwhelming fences, bridges, thoroughfares.
>>> Stories get muddied, muddled; directions
>>> change in direction in their fat middles,
>>> adjectives turned eponyms. Apposition
>>> personalises fragmentarily.Time for Herod to ponder Truth. We must
>>> get moves on. Before we know, we’ll be back
>>> at beginnings, every sphere windfallen,
>>> every name half-lost; waiting
>>> Lawrence Upton
>>>
>>> -----Original Message-----
>>> From: Tina Bass <[log in to unmask]>
>>> To: POETRYETC <[log in to unmask]>
>>> Sent: Fri, Feb 28, 2020 3:15 pm
>>> Subject: Re: Vancouver Lights
>>>
>>> Apologies for interrupting as I have not been here for a long time. For
>> those that have not heard, Lawrence Upton is dead. I have not got the
>> energy to provide details but if you have energy there is a petition in
>> place to preserve his works.
>>> Please sign if you are so inclined
>>>
>>> t
>>>
>>> https://t.co/IaH75uy0fk?amp=1
>>>
>>>
>>>
>>>
>> Douglas Barbour
>> [log in to unmask]
>> https://eclecticruckus.wordpress.com/
>>
>> Recent publications: (With Sheila E Murphy) Continuations & Continuations
>> 2 (UofAPress).
>> Recording Dates (Rubicon Press).
>> Listen. If (UofAPress):
>>
>>
>> Done in by creation itself.
>>
>> I mean the gods. Not us. Well us too.
>> The gods moved into books. Who wrote the books?
>> We wrote the books. In whose dream, then are we dreaming?
>>
>> Robert Kroetsch
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
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