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:
If you are in London come on out. Will be reading some fucked up elfish mayan house of Zabka bizarro in honour of Mr. Burroughs.
Tues Jan 15th 2013.
Parasol Unit is the place: http://parasol-unit.org/on-beat
THE BOOK I TOSSBY TED GREENWALD The book I toss is Boss It bangs against the walls And gets me working I watch its thin green Recede into a reed And think the time right To set the Boss right We argue Cops suddenly appear I throw them and Boss Out the window And unscrew my ankles I be my own boss I be my own police
I met Jake Adam York when I lived in North Carolina. He published one of my first poems "Mr Whiskers and the Picnic Basket." I have a broadside of one of his poems celebrating the sensuality of southern BBQ.
It was a shock to hear that he has died this past weekend. Close to my own age.
"English poetry is suddenly in the happy state of being wide and generous enough to feel confident in its ability to draw upon art, music, the emotions, beauty, surrealism, language writing, comedy, the diverse strands of the New American Poetry, and, even (after a long time being banned by an academy which valorizes overwrought language and intellectual showing off) some kind of recognizable, erotic, and enjoyable LIFE. This is the happy and generous environment in which we find ourselves — at last! It has been a long time coming." -- Tim Atkins
in honour of my brother's birthday today. He died unexpectedly six months ago. Heroin overdose in Spanish Fork Utah. Miss him a shitload. He would have turned 30 today. We were very close growing up together. Took care of him when he was a baby. Bathed him in a plastic baby tub in Milton Keynes, England. Rode bikes together in the deserts of Las Vegas and collected lizards and rocks. Spent the last two New Years and Christmas with him in Spanish Fork Utah. We were reconnecting as adults. Best time of my life. Things change. Nothing can be taken for granted.
La gente empieza tragedias luego le echa la culpa al mundo No fue la culpa del mundo que tengo miedo Que la gente empezó El quilombo que no pude arreglar La gente como universo La gente se muere también La gente como oscuro cielo gris, las luces atizan Puntos amarillos de azul y plata Qué es...
Black brothers to get happy The Puerto Ricans to say hello The old folks to take it easy & as it comes The United States to get straight Power to butt out Money to fuck off Business with honor Religion & Art Love A home A typewriter A GUN.
Poor Claudia (doesn't get any better) from Nick van Eck: Something beautiful about swinging! Feel like getting away from the holiday hustle and leaping mid-air into a white hot void of weightless language? Look at that. We’ve got four new poems from EMILY PETTIT.
Emily Pettit’s the author of Goat in the Snow (Birds LLC). She’s also an editor for notnostrums, jubliat, and Factory Hollow Press. She teaches at Flying Object and Elms College.
I am designing an alt lit Christmas in Poland. At the house of Zabka. We will club the carp in the bathtub and then we will cook it and eat it. We will eat pierogi and break bread crackers when the first star arrives. And everyone will speak Polish and wish good tidings and I won’t understand the words. But that’s OK. At the end of the night I will go to the quiet room and open up my inbox where all my friend’s live. And I will unwrap my Metazen ebook. And I will read and be happy. I am glad TB is gone. All the great Romantics died from TB.
The Manifesto Antropófago (Cannibal Manifesto in English) was published in 1928 by the Brazilianpoet and polemicistOswald de Andrade. The essay was translated to English in 1991 by Leslie Bary.
Its argument is that Brazil's history of "cannibalizing" other cultures is its greatest strength, while playing on the modernists' primitivist interest in cannibalism as an alleged tribal rite. Cannibalism becomes a way for Brazil to assert itself against European post-colonial cultural domination. The Manifesto's iconic line is "Tupi or not Tupi: that is the question." The line is simultaneously a celebration of the Tupi, who practiced certain forms of ritual cannibalism (as detailed in the 16th century writings of André Thévet, Hans Staden, and Jean de Léry), and a metaphorical instance of cannibalism: it eats Shakespeare.
happy for my work to be in great company. Peter Jaeger, Tim Atkins, Richard Parker, Amy De'Ath, Cathy Wagner, bill bissett, Sachiko Murakami and lots more . .
My poem is "Song of the Open Road." A creative translation of Walt Whitman.
lots to explore . .
Fantastic issue that opens up possibilities. . the only kind of reading worth reading . . http://web4.uwindsor.ca/rampike