Richard Freeman

Nadsat - and all that cal

From Burgess’ Gulliver a goloss came,
So zammechant, yet burbling yawwwww like sand.
Such is parole, from rot to ear: a game
Of viddying, of slooshying offhand.
Slovos: horrorshow, and bolshy also,
Yet said, they’re ultra-dead - starry and bland.

So fades a shoom, melting like hot maslow
Into deadened Bog-air and spread-around;
Whilst the goober and the red garlo
Loveted AB (lubbilubbing sound),
It is the molodoy that peet the zvooks
Like firegold, just to gob them on the ground.

2006

The Tiptrop Waker

The tiptrop waker survus the sescu,
Standing as tall as a pol on his liff-fred.
A child gasses as the tiptrop waker wakes -
Step by step, the crowd hi’ds their i’s.

Its dun, its merjic - the sharud comes to an end -
The i’s are uncovered and the triptrop is left slak.
The gassing child shose and grins -
Thats betu then befor!

James Harvey

Rebecca Horn's Lone Self-playing Cello

at same time
letting go together−alone
seeing the world governed by maths

maths entering maths

and flying/

flying
reflecting beyond itself
cohering/

cohering.

Seeing the world governed by dreams

dream entering dream

and fragmenting/

fragmenting
reflecting beyond itself
broken/

broken.

Seeing the maths governed by dreams

dream entering maths

and fragmenting/

flying
reflecting beyond itself
broken/

cohering.

Soaring

The whole of a bird with sensitive eyes,
ears and beak is balanced on the feet,

the feet take the weight of the compact body
and the head rises above on the long neck,

a plate-like structure of fused hip and vertebra
carries the bird’s weight balanced on the feet,

then flying, the breast plate is a keel,
the weight of the body is taken to the wings,
the flight muscles connect the wings to the keel,
and the centre of gravity is on the keel away from the wings,

the lungs are open passageways through which air rushes
entering bellows, pushed into lungs
and out to another sac to be exhaled,
flight muscles working the ventilation while flying.

The trumpet player standing erect and relaxed,
holding up the trumpet with the mouth piece touching his lips, plays.

Functional anatomy from The Life of Vertebrates by J.Z. Young.

PENNED IN

mycorrhizal fungi joining host plants enable hosts to draw more nutrients spread out over north america twelve thousand years ago grasses copses with glaciers shrinking plants and small animals similar to these today larger animals direwolves sabretooths teratorns mammoths tapirs bison horses . . . measurement joins the memory recounting large fauna found by first man last large animal across land bridge to the New Continent natural differences in biota a sum of squared proportion of each of their species counted separately relative to total number of species and reciprocal taken with greater diversity greater resulting number smaller smaller number smallest 1 self-reflexive I of the mnemonics mathematician.

Frances Kruk

clear night hazy girl

pretty
fool with purpled lips
parted in the wrong
direction feels doomed to downhilliness
murky pittedness:

queen of drowsy water
rats along 14th street
doesn�t even stop to watch
streetlamps waving
in river water just huffs
dry dust gritty sandman victim
sleepwalking home
to the sound of birds
(chirp)
waking

upside out (or, The Tale of Okay Harmony Blown to Smithereens)

solid lumps of flesh aren't
we sucking back swirls
of atmosphere black lunging
slow sipping solvent words
soluble too much understanding
of the universe in construct
i say, relative, relative
but still expect hardwood
underfoot logic prevails
in this room, in conversation
ordinary.ordinated.orderly.okay
harmony of furniture friends
love other abstracts the point\
is i get it, i get it happy
in a place in people in stringing
theory when oh damnation

you step into the
room and semantics
shift / = ?

the tinkle of glasses
clutter clink of cutlery translates
to me: nervous
clench/unclenching
fists

shivering
atrial flutter ah lovely face unexplicable

the visibles flip & release what
like gravity just lost ground have
floated away you
chairs bob at window done
level tables squat
on the ceiling
a flock of caesar salad oo
oo a suspended :
lemon cheesecake :::
lost cookies 0o O
wine stains 0 Oo o 0
bubble about o o :: ::::: blobs
mercurial o ::: : :::
music particulates ::::: o oo
exploded jar of buttons :::::: :::
:::::: : : ::
:: o
: ::: : o
poets flatulate
hot air balloons lips drip blahblahblahblah
verbal diarrhea # blahalhlbalhlalba
non sense all of this # # lalbabbbbla aalblahh
# ###
## ### ### #####
I NOTE THAT A LASAGNA WITH TOO MUCH # ###### # #
RICOTTA CHEESE COLLAPSES ONCE RELEASED ######## ####
FROM THE CONFINES OF THE BAKING DISH. # # ###### ### #
# ## ## ##########
# # ########
(the addition of lasagna to this scene proves disastrous.
aaaa poets ::::pasta^!--OO# tomato. sauce !~cheese
aa a alphablahtti. aaaaaaaaabbbaaaaabaaaaaaaaaa
a aaaaaaaaaaaaaaallaaaaaaaaaaaaa
aaa a aaaaaaaalalaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaabaaaaaaaaaa
aa aaa aaaaaaallllaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa bbl aaaaaaaaaaaa
gorgeous mess oo hh a aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa
hh aa a aaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

you bastard
you've turned it

i don't get it
i don't get it
not at all

the new

my only
concern is that i haven�t
seen your teeth and i am not
certain you could really bite
me hard enough to break
skin

i crinkle brow
at the smooth thought
of your hands
they may not reach around
my throat
to black-pearl bruise me
pressure-sweat bead me
- loop fingerprints over my collarbone?
arpeggiate my skin with welts?

you�re such a soft idea:
you kiss me and i
could sleep aromatic
and soft-feathered for
ever

just wake me

knock me intosense.

milk or something like that (for myron)

words you up
spit:
difficult to digest
without the proper enzymes
translation is slow
full of air
what a gas �

it�s serious
enough that you don�t fit
in your jeans
the same way

bloated

with verbiage
so bad
you don�t want to swallow any more

so you turn
your head when no one�s looking
and hork it all into potted plants
over balcony
railings
or into
storm
sewers

i suggest these pills:

they make everything
easier
force you
to break
down
full
language
and neutralize acidity
so you can drink the creamy
sweetness of summer love
bright flowers golden sunshine cows
in tall grass and twilight
magic and l.o.v.e.

without the embarrasing side
effects of intolerance

just think of the freedom:
all the cheese you can possibly
eat despite your little condition.
eat this pill. forget your five years
of learned language, the intelligent
healthy choices � low fat low lactose low sodium

dilate pupil.
embrace cliche.

go for the full fat, straight from the teat.

Alex MacDonald

Self Proclaimed Artist

Though it�s quite clear
All your beauty, all your wit, is a gift, my dear,
From me. � Sylvia Plath

I stand upright, amongst the dark light
Of day, wearing my crisp suit that �might�
And �maybe� tailored and the press paid for.

The weirdo. My beard itches when I�m alone
And I can�t sleep. So I take a short vacation, hone
In on salty lips; a sack ready to hit the floor.

Animal lust is my desire and, without any bother,
I�ve gained the title of �artist�. Oh my mother
Would be so proud, if she wasn�t sworn against my heart.

But they forced her, politely, to neglect the size
Of her child�s big, beautiful, black brown eyes
Just long enough so they can begin. A start.

I�m drowning in cobblestones; gaining no mention
From factory workers, I can�t grasp their attention
Any more. So in night I work and love I do wreak.

No one bothers me apart from the road I walk.
Its grooves and markings; echo, laughter, talk.
How can you silence what does not speak?

Crouch and hush. You walk closer, the one for me.
Your naivety makes you glow brighter. You see
What I can make you, what a stranger can do.

You�ll be immortalised; eternal youth and sex appeal. I
Am your agent, the masses� saviour. The price to die.
I run after the night, and I forever think of you.

Pollen (flowers by a bedside)

Slender glass and lacquered wood,
A petal falls from safety to the brave,
New world. Greeted by wind kisses
It is already done for.
A shaft of light, echo in sound,
Beauty smiles in its cracked hand mirror
And it sighs inside. The flower is dying.

Unknown to you the cut throat edge
Of petals and scissors rest between
Your quiet breath. And in your head
You dream and aspire, but this doesn�t show,
As the slower you move the more
Simplistic you look. You lie awkwardly,
But comfortable enough to sleep.

Perfect rectangles hold a life�s work;
The ink of someone forgotten and the
Now sun dried sheets where you lay. Movement
Lets the pollen on you shimmer; its tiny body
Matches yours. Looking back now this
Is when you were your weakest; your breath
Being inhaled by the others around you.

Rapture chimes by the hour of the clock.
I dreamt, too. I entered inside aspiration
And it was majestic. Shudders bring me to
The reality I had always hoped for.
I don�t want to stir you, but for one brief
Moment the sun poured in on us
And we were blessed whilst sleeping.

Homemade

Time died as nature yawned its salty past away
And the corpses of the warm hearted nod. And while
Trees and children sprout they have nothing to say.

You were there to witness the death and birth
Of emotion. You scrawl the panic no one will hear.
And the black and white writers are taken for their worth.

You are homemade; the loving imperfections sowed
Into your hair are oblivious to all but you. Distance beckons
You, for now you bide time living the dreamed.

But I saw it all, talked death and reacted with you.
We sit together and we watch the fire solve this world.
I look on and listen, as if it�s the last thing I�ll ever do.