Marcus Slease (JJ Mars) is a (mostly) surrealist 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:
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from the words of Frank (from Watermelon Island)
Fleshing out Watermelon Island. The chapters now have names. Characters are being developed. Still a lot of work. Burning parts of the plot to get to the characters. The plot is getting too thick.
Here is one of them:
FROM THE WORDS OF FRANK
There’s no need to starve yourself. It’s about what’s storied and what’s burned. We have to get to the storied part and burn it. We’ll sort you out down under. But it’s not easy. Let’s start. This is where you want to go. A forest. A forest has lots of trees. There are birds. Or the sound of birds. You can’t see the birds. What are we doing here? Well think about it. A distant waterfall. You know why right? Water= life. You learn that in grade school. Plus add a touch of chanting. Or drumming. Drumming is OK too. The important thing is to get into that primitive state. I’m not talking about peeling back the onion layers of the brain to the reptilian one. No no. They got that wrong. Or if they got it right it’s secondary. A by-product. This is about the left talking to the right. You know, non-dual. The important thing is get whatever needs getting out of you. We prefer not to call up violent imagery. We’ve had enough of that. This is a step forward. We don’t mean turning the other cheek. We don’t mean that. We mean taking the momentum and letting it fall. And that’s an ancient technique. It’s called Aikido. You might know about it. But this is about winding yourself up so much you just have to burst. Don’t get the wrong idea though. We don’t want you to burst. Not literally. It’s just a figure of speech. Think of a balloon. If you don’t remember balloons take a look on your device. Under images. That balloon thing floats. You put all your stories in there. One by one and they burst. That’s one of the ways we do it. But don’t do it alone. You need our trained professionals. That’s what we are here for. And that’s just the first step. The first rung on the ladder so to speak. You have to get to the burning. You have to burn to really get the full effect. The burning is where you will really see the difference.
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…