Marcus Slease is a (mostly) surrealist, absurdist, and fabulist writer from Portadown, N. Ireland and Utah.
His latest book is Play Yr Kardz Right (Dostoyevsky Wannabe, 2017).
He lives in Madrid, Spain.
Visit his website for more info:
miPO radio is really kicking ass. Check out the latest shows (Asian-American poets, reading poetry by others, an interview with Rita Maria Martinez). I have a few recordings on the show of Resident Alien and a reading of Interregnum by Geraldine Monk. If you haven't read Geraldine Monk check out her work. It's coming from British Objectivism, ecopoetics, female Magic/ witches, shamanism etc.
I had a really great time reading/listening/chatting on Saturday.
Great to see close friends from Greensboro (Angie and Jake, Lori, Fay, Ezra) and lots of Lucifers:
I've always been interested in the ritual/chant aspects of language and a few years ago I wrote an MA poetry thesis on Nous, and Greek philosophy in general, which really tried to explore the relationships, and tensions, between the mind and body.
I used a lot of techniques from Jorie Graham's Swarm and Cole Swenson's Try. The language I used to enact this exploration was highly intellectualized and used a lot of abstractions via the specialized discourse of philosophy. I felt something vital was missing. I was very distant from the work.
So I turned my attention to more mainstream work and entered the MFA world and wrote lots of first person, narrative, epiphanic, and quirky narrative poetry. I felt I risked more in these poems, but I still felt unsatisfied with ignoring the intellectual aspects of my being.
Perhaps many of you know this already, but I continue to find it fascinating. A society that uses sex to diffuse violence etc. A more equal relationship between males and females. Lots of diverse sexual practices.
Reading Mark Wallace's Temporary Worker Rides a Subway and watched In the Realms of the Unreal and they triggered some strange neuron firings this morning.
I am in an airport full of Japanese folks. It's a small airport. I am trying to get to Washington state (Bellingham to be exact) for a worker's union meeting for the Vivian girls. I find some loud country folk in the corner of the airport and ask them where I am and they laugh and tell me "the center of the bum universe." I show them my boarding pass and they scrutinize it and walk away shaking their heads. When I look down at my boarding pass it's just a sketch of a little girl with a penis with the words HATE and LOVE scribbled on the side. When I go to the security checkpoint they tell me I am in Reno, Nevada and the airport will soon close due to a sandstorm and hand me a coupon for Krispy Cremes and a hot dog.
Then I am in Times Square in NY and it's 1982 and people are breakdancing and keep asking…
I am wondering what the ratio might be between ancient art celebrating the life giving powers of the penis versus ancient art celebrating the life giving powers of the vagina?
Sometimes I feel guilt for having a penis. I mean all the horrible history (the many relationships between violence and the penis both literally and symbolically).
But other times it feels good to celebrate the penis (as well as the vagina).
What a long complex history of shame and guilt about female and male genitals. Why? Power and pleasure. Religion.
It's an ongoing struggle. Pleasure can be chaotic, animal-like and must be controlled via shame and guilt. The shame and guilt can often manifest in monstrous ways.
When a woman makes a joke about a big dick it is exciting and powerful. Much different than when a man makes the same joke of course. But I wonder what it would take for men to try on bragging about the vagina? What kind of language? Lick my hood?
I am wondering how the language of the female body can…