Skip to main content

settling back in

Picked up some Peter Riley while I was in London. Haven't read much of him except Untitled Sequence (a chapbook from Wild Honey Press)

It's strange being back. It took me ten years to get back to Ireland for a holiday and it felt like I never left.

I think Tiffany was excited to come back to America and eat "regular" food. She is not as Banger mad as I am.

A few people we met had a very limited perception of America. Monolithic. Hollywood etc.

The Tate Modern was amazing. My cousin was a member so we went to the roof and took some pictures of London. The size of Rothko's paintings were amazing. It was really interesting to look closely at the paint drips of Jackson Pollock.

I really liked Bruce Nauman's sound poetry at the Tate. Check out some of the sounds from the installation:
Bruce Nauman's Raw Materials

We went to Belfast two hours after the biggest bank robbery in the U.K. (27 million). We walked right past the bank. So far it looks like the pulled it off.

It is nice to settle back into a routine again though. I didn't write at all while I was in Ireland and England.

Really excited for the coming year. Some great Desert City readings and Lucipo on the road.

I am missing my Ulster fry though.

Comments

Anonymous said…
marcus, the isle of ireland in the hole of your stomach is fertile with soil and fruit. do you know who this is? it's hardy. i saw your dad in a photograph. your cheeks are happy. he looks like you, you like him. looking alike is sometimes a one-way street. it's your mr. whiskers.

today, it...the...there was. i stumbled home in the daylight. i was befallen by my own mistakes to find that they were discoveries...yes...but of the familiar kind that demand that all discoveries have been made already. still, i put on my pants and desired food.

i possess.

wilderness lives in the big city.

tally-ho. cheerio.

helmut
postpran said…
Hardy,

Good to hear from you. Yes, I never thought of that. He is my Mr. Whiskers. Hope you've stumbled on some good Italians in Brooklyn. Pasta etc.

Home is where the stomach craves.

You should grow your hair long again. For effect.

Popular posts from this blog

poets reading poets

There are on A now: Andrews, Antin, Apollinaire, Ashbery


A project from the Atlanta Poetry Group. Check it:

http://atlantapoetsgroup.blogspot.co.uk/

The Poetry of Tao Lin

Another Ireland by Robert Archambeau

This review really hit it for me. I recently read Maurice Scully's _Livelihood_ and Geofrey Squires _Untitled and Other Poems_ is on deck (I love that baseball term. It is baseball, right?)

I think this is from The Nortre Dame review, but I found it via goofle (I mean google).


Another Ireland: Part Two
Maurice Scully, The Basic Colours. Durham, UK: Pig Press, 1994.
Geoffrey Squires, Landscapes and Silences. Dublin: New Writers' Press, 1996.
Catherine Walsh, Idir Eatortha and Making Tents. London: Invisible Books, 1996.

By Robert Archambeau

I began the first half of this article (Notre Dame Review #4) by mentioning some of the limits to the legendary hospitality Ireland has shown to its poets. If you arrive in Ireland from any point of departure outside of Eastern Europe, you will indeed find a public far more willing than the one you left behind to grant poets the recognition all but the most ascetic secretly crave. However, this hospitality has never extended to Irish poets w…