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BULK
ACE
FULLY
UNTOLD
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My poetry in the real world
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3 min read
It’s been a while since I updated my publications page, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been busy sending stuff out. Well, actually, I’ve been busy waiting for journals and magazines to respond to my submissions. All writers know this drill: in fact, I know of about 300 submissions to Cordite that I’m currently unable…
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Davey Dreamnation: “But Seriously …”
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3 min read
DNRC088 | 2xLP | 2018
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Smoke Twenty Three
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2 min read
The room was never completely empty, of course. You managed to hide yourself amongst my possessions, the loose ties and woolly scarves, mittens. I’d meet you on the subway, when your picture fell out of the text book I was reading. I’d meet you in the laundromat, when your red polka dot top found its…
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Surds & Indices: “Cube Root Forms”
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2 min read
DNRC087 | 2xL.P. |† 2017
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Smoke Twenty Two
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1 min read
Whatever else happened, it was certainly you who came up with the name. How about PCB, like a little PC bang! We settled things over a single shot of vodka in some poorly-ventilated bar, making patents and intellectual property plans. Technological dream boosters. High on Chris de Burgh’s emotions, if only ironically. The day you…
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Smoke Twenty One
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1 min read
When I got back to my tiny room everything had changed. Someone has been in here. The bed had been made, sheets strangling the mattress in a silence of white. The small bin had been relieved of its guilty burden: chocolate cake wrappers, empty grape soda cans. I opened Windows to the applause of street…
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the day heath ledger died)
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1 min read
okay so i was watching sunrise (the day heath ledger died surrounded by pills they said first he’s dead & then the ads & then in breaking news, this: so jo, what does this mean? cut to wednesday’s expert from new ikea magazine (who brings h. ledger back to life no suggestion of suicide &…
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Smoke Twenty
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1 min read
Zero smokes, and drinks soju while he waits. Rumbles of traffic and subway bass. Two empty bottles on the table now. He’s been pouring one glass for himself, then placing a second in a growing pod on the other side of the table. He’s one third of the way through a pack of Smokes. The…
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Smoke Nineteen
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1 min read
Zero Moon sits near the food stall, a bottle of soju and two glasses set before him. Around him the city powers down, OT steam blasting from small vents and holes in its skin. The sub-audible hum, capillaries of electricity fading out. Information still shuttles around, via its own networks deep in the air, almost…
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Smoke Eighteen
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1 min read
The next morning you crystal clear patch in over the PCB’s secure line, and I can sit with the headset cradled in my arm, watching the morning through Windows, podding your voice’s every urgent burst. Proposing an informational kind of messing with the static stations on OT. Old tech, or off-topic? Your missives, fired like…
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Smoke Seventeen
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1 min read
When you call I can hear a bug in the line, and not much else. Awoken at 2am by my PCB’s random koan. Finding it face-down by the lamp. Flicking its switch, I imagine you in an airport hotel, staring out the window with the headset held in one hand, a mouse in the other.…
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Slow-Cooked Socks & Passionate Tongues
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2 min read
Well, it’s been a while between drinks for me as far as gigs are concerned but all that’s about to change with the incredibly bulk ace news that I’ll be featuring – alongside deep-fried sock dumpling expert Alicia Sometimes – at a forthcoming edition of Brunswick’s finest poetry reading, Passionate Tongues! Or as I like…
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Cordite 26.1: White Homes (2007)
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2 min read
Image: Chris Schedel: ‘White Homes, near Elgin, Illinois 2007’. Prose poetry is the new black. Join guest editor Kristina Marie Darling in celebrating all things prosodical in Cordite 26.1: White Homes, a special selection of work from ten of the USA’s finest exponents of the genre, including Erin M. Bertram, Joshua Clover, Robert Gibbons, Richard…
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Smoke Sixteen
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2 min read
Jet Moon doesn’t have a ticket but she’ll ride on to the next station. She’ll get off, ride the escalator upwards, jump the turnstile and emerge onto the street. It’s raining in Jongno. She’ll pass by a comic book stand, plastic meals in a window. Rain sluices down the window. There is a bar on…
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Smoke Fifteen
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1 min read
Like a hawker trundling bananas up and down the laneways, the RFK broadcast begins, its strident rhetoric pock-marked with apaches of radio static. Blue days and green days, orange dawns and summer frosts; all part of the terraforming mandate. Unfurling fogs along the coastal waterways and islands, the mandate encompasses both canals and streamlets, giant…