NOMADIC TRAVEL WRITING

My brother is awake. At first he couldn’t speak and he put his hand on his heart and pointed to my mum. now he is using words . . . it looks like everything is going to be ok so far :-) he is a fighter alright!!!! Read more

my little brother Spencer was in a very bad car crash three days ago in utah. he is in a coma. brain swollen. collapsed lung. machines. I can’t really focus on anything else at the moment . . . Read more

It is really happening. or seems to. My first feed for over three years occurred last night in east london at the Foundery: Sascha Akhtar Sean Bonney Frances Kruk Scott Thurston John Wilkinson All great . . .. especially the performance of Sean Bonney and Frances Kruk. If you have not heard of the poetry… Read more

A lot of tube time. Over three hours. I’ve seen some of the same people but we are not supposed to look at each other. When I blow my nose black shit, a bit like newspaper ink, comes out in chunks on the tissue. West London is much better than living near Manor House. West… Read more

I must attend this event next year!!! report by Alison Read more

Prodigal Drift Lapid maze-fault: something calls my name, tomotoe on the table I wish you could pick me up operaticallyhot/cold with critical speculation. I’ve met gravityat every turn and in America very basic lightning to take a different direction in comparisonto the primness and residual limits of Victorian England. This is the ramshackle of a… Read more

COFFEE HALL sex drop and damp dreamsin coffee hallbefore a Mormonbaptism there was silent chatter and I was borderline skit zowhile star wars figures melted on the light bulb This is the scene, the seen, the redeveloped conditional, the hemoglobin of a healthy heartbeat. Once upon, once the time was, the time is a disappearingpoint… Read more

My friend and fellow poet Virgil Renfroe gave me this link to a very interesting poetry and sound art website. The soundstuff is really really interesting. Check it out: Dean Parkin Read more

got a big room for the month of August. Half a foot on the ground. So my third move in London coming up in two weeks. Then in September I must move again because room is only for one month. So four flats in four months in London. Par for the course. I am circles… Read more

so maybe my feet will come back. maybe i can work in marketing for this language school and then create a mental space for my writing. I think other writers work business jobs and still are prolific with their poetry and art. started copying some of the language from a marketing report for the middle… Read more

went to brick lane in london yesterday. it is an amazing place. my favourite place in london so far. lots of interesting galleries. it is where the new shit happens. fashion is hip and mind blowing. i also taught a class as a replacement teacher at the school and i felt like myself for the… Read more

It is pouring rain in London right now. Typical English weather i guess. I live in a Turkish neighborhood. I got my haircut the other day at a Turkish barber shop. No one spoke much English. It was interesting. He got a burning hot metal stick and put it close to my face. Supposed to… Read more

Portadown cum round againsex drop and damp dreamsin council housingsilent chatter borderline skit zofigures melting on lightbulbs I’m painting a portrait with the pelvis as a disappearing point and masturbation is nothing left to lose. I was pretend smoking with twig and some girl named Sweetie and then my gills turned to lungs underneath the… Read more

So I moved into a new flat in North London (near Manor House) last monday. Lost money by moving out of the other flat before the end of the month but the new flat is much better. Cool flatmates and nice and modern place and even internet in the front room. One flatmate is from… Read more

so leave in a few hours for a plane back to London. Belfast was great. Fantastic indie rock clubs. The area around Queens University is really nice. Cool vintage clothing shop and lots of cafes and rock clubs and beautiful botanic gardens and lots of cool hip Belfast hipsters roaming the streets. Surprising and refreshing… Read more

scene speak: NewportPagnell: green green greenand old village pubs, countryfood: Yorkshire pudding and roastand carrots: loved and lostand loved it all maybe not, although, I don’t think so, my lapsedtravel zone, still winking star-studdedchallenge, hear all, heralded, just grab the tab &pull off the damage, gravel &chips, travel fresh, pushed-in chin maybe not, although, travel… Read more

The Goose at The Goose across from Wood Green Station£1.50 a pint, Slovakians and Bulgerians and Polish and North Londoners and a man in the corner climbing a ladderof tongues in the overheard compartmentsof the mind what has liftedwhat has shiftedin the supreme footfall, in the swaggerof alternate tendencies: sparksof the masculine dream dragon: can’tget… Read more

what does it mean to sell out? it entails something about authenticity which is a big bag of bones. but being authentic is always a question in motion. like individuality it is under suspicion. and at the very least it is fucking hard work. to be authentic requires constant questing and questioning. i have a… Read more

in new room. old place. a few cool bulgarians. now my mum is in belfast. flying back to belfast tomorrow. it is crazy globe trotting. come back to london in 11 days. will eventually get settled. met cool german named sven and went to about five london irish pubs full of irish londoners here since… Read more

I traveled from Milton Keynes to London all last week. After one busy extremely stressful week I have a job and a place to live. I will take the train tomorrow to London. I will live with six other guys in a cheap flat share in North London (Wood Green). The new job is in… Read more

birds everywhere. at least twelve new songs. clock ticking. slugs nestled into mud puddles. Lush, in short. i have applied to a mad amount of jobs, it is the system, my tick, oversaturate then choose via exhaustion or luck. just want a bit of peace, a piece, small piece, of the pie without getting sucked… Read more

hey we go . . . one hour . . . two trains . . . plane . . .london well, Milton Keynes for a while . . . interview for a marketing gig in North London Tuesday. If I got the job, I would be the marketing fella for an English language school in… Read more

dipping feet into dead holes: polski pani polski pani zoo wee su zesh gee oh wee ma me pling plang ol la ba na na the eye socket does not contain a rainbowbut the informer keeps on informing coins on the table, flight delayed, & still trying to simplify my lifeI’ve the restless disease with… Read more

cruel spring is on the way and my savage old identity is in the making, three years of foreign lands, my action is mental,don’t jump outta airplanes ‘cept in my mindget natural, get funny, get off, get your tailin a hairspin, tis insanity hence sane ached-up falliable nauticalhot-splotch rollerwheels &squeels& a dummytit to shutthe trap… Read more

Throngs of people in the centre of katowice scuttling down the street. Legs don’t work right around here. My energies are dispersed and can’t keep ahead of the curve. Nothing is not enough. A saturation and then repulsion of selves. Reading and writing and being awake are a survival strategy. A pull toward the pit.… Read more

three more hard days of teaching in Poland. Then a few days in krakow and then London. Trying to stay calm. No idea what kind of job I can get in London. But I must awaken again. need to get some roots. hunker down and create. meet my basic needs and write write write .… Read more

it was a very hard, sad and beautiful funeral. it was nice to see my mum for a little while. It had been almost six years since I had seen my mum. i fly back to Poland tomorrow. then london at the end of next week. I am hoping to find a community of artists… Read more

My Granny helped raise me when I was little. I will miss her terribly. I never got to say goodbye. from my uncle Stan: Georgina Phyllis Wilson (Gibson)Monday 21st April 2008My Mummy died this morning at approximately 6.25am, after a very long disturbed night. Thankfully after an additional injection she passed away peacefully in her… Read more

Read more

In the daily minutiae picking up, picking out, packing up, freedom is a force multiplier still increasing in importance, where you going with your lazy eye in central Europe rollerblading on love’s highway got no action to declare wszystkiego naylepszego dream on, dream churned out in a post-bomb haze, what about ya, little legs twisted… Read more

From that moment on the body refused its movement and there was the feeling of everything left to do. What am I going to show you now? A protoclysmic eye? A terrestial invasion? Everything wise is broken. Non-instrumental potential. you must sitdown in this tunneland trya new breath you must vacate the storm’s lecture yr… Read more

Looks like it is back to America in May or June. It has been over five years since I have seen my family (mum dad and three brothers and three sisters). Arranging tickets. Salt lake City, Utah and living with my folks for the summer in a place called Spanish Fork (Utah). Earn some money… Read more

The Secret of Why We First Took to Our Feet the brain weaves a strange kind of music and our bodiesseem unable to forgetthe memory of what it feels liketo be properly seenall I have said is truly a conversation with light as a shadow puppet among the livingwe can find breathing but we can’t… Read more

The Secret of Why We First Took to Our Feet the brain weaves a strange kind of music and our bodiesseem unable to forgetthe memory of what it feels liketo be properly wholeall I have said is truly a conversation with light as a shadow puppet among the livingwe can find breathing but we can’t… Read more

it is pleasant to breathe after strangulation it is pleasant to clink a wishbottle against yr yellowing teeth it is pleasant to tie boredom to the bed and whip the shit out of it it is pleasant to walk on cold ground with defective spaces in yr mind it is pleasant to dance in the… Read more

Kultura It’s a milkshake dream. Chocolate chunks in a pool of milk. What will prevail upon the tongue when human time is disappearing from the universe? And so the large self is proud of no-nation. They are all little shits. I’m a chain. A chain around grotesque nipples. I myself did love, did leave a… Read more

Shame Ladies and gentlemen, better wake up and hijack these images. Don’t wake up too old for experience. You’re beginning to believe in the past detached from the body. I have found ergo I am dead. A damned birth needs continual shock. An exaggeration of subtle truths. Here beneath the house of language a bat… Read more

Read more

Saturday morning Pre-CAE class. Great students. Read more

Shame I am full of shame. All my work is a forgery. I don’t thinkI’ve said one important thingin my entire life I’m back in a body crumbling within the prism of white supremacy. Purity is for dummies. *******************************************************************************************Ladies and gentlemen, better wake up and hijak these images. Don’t wake up too old for experience.… Read more

We’ve talked a little about the horsepenis and change and luck and the way things come down. There are cartoon voices and a jangle of keys at the station. The penis is abandoned or postponed for old age. Sop up the sperm of these swift cheap words. Through any window piss is raining from the… Read more

Most Fridays only contain three or four hours of teaching and then the afternoon and evening are free. God it is nice. Here is a revision of an earlier poem. Still in the works, but moving in a better direction. Think the manuscript is changing. Prodigal Drift is no longer the right title. Primal Verge… Read more

it is announcements like these that make me wish I were still in North Carolina with the Lucifer Poetics folk: Announcing MIXTAPE (the Reading Series) #4 Mark you calendars now! Mixtape is a salon-style reading series, where invited poets will read “mixes” of work by writers other than themselves. Host: Chris VitielloWhere: 1106 Ninth St.,… Read more

There’s a he and a she separated by slender wood. The graver engraves and the wood isbitten into. Who carves and who is carved really doesn’t matter. Who bites and who is bitten depends on the occasion. Please observe the sound of a broken flip-flop from your bedroom window. It is summer and a city… Read more

There’s a he and a she separated by slender wood. The graver engraves and the wood isbitten into. Who carves and who is carved really doesn’t matter. Who bites and who is bitten depends on the occasion. Please observe the sound of a broken flip-flop from your bedroom window. It is summer and a city… Read more

There’s a he and a she separated by slender wood: engraved and bitten into.One broken flip-flop clops along the wooden floor.Each footfall sinksinto sand. A final whistle cutsthe air as eachmemory chugsaway on forgottentracks. Romanticrubbish is stuffedinto recycle bins.To have been is to becarried away and pushedopen by the lidless.I must mind my memories, minethe… Read more

Scene Speak Katowice centre has the highest percentage of limping people per capita. The table in this café keeps tipping. Hands won’t get warm. Ice cobra of the mind. Caution for the darkness that rumbles from the post-communist trams. Glops of kebab stick to the pavement. Fingers null. Old homes mold holes. Word my brain.… Read more

Maybe you had wooden fingers in a past life Read more

Bloodlump bit my tongue on some thinned-outPolish bread and it’s a bloodlumpagainst the invertebratemovements of the tongue when with contempt the exposure of dust in the daylight: a fertile stasis abovethe hills of a shelled-out city: the liver deposits unconscious memory: from bloodsimple that wish in the water: to think it’s true asleep among the… Read more

Read more

Read more

have to tilt a little to the right but new glasses are back with a new lens . . . Read more

Neighbors 1 no eternity without mythical speechtotem mud paints the brainclay codingsseven to nine stiches suture the minda paradise of blemishesmusic drawn like conceptsbetween meaningsvisions in the mudpit Neighbors 2 crazy oblivion terminates in the nude bathing in pine needlesskin stripped from the bumthe most inquisitive childrenon the sundial of the dead all good people… Read more

In fact, there are only two things in the universe which are simple, and one of them is the universe taken as a whole; and the other is its language, because its language is its capacity for love. And the capacity of the universe for love is that for which man was born. Oh yes,… Read more

The third half SHIT HAPPENS, that’s howthe writing on men’s toilet wall ends.This is the worst –to walk with such hungerof at least minimal glow – to findonly this, the writing at night toilet,that’s how it looks, pussycatand that’s how it ends Dogs make love on the pavement. I pretended a tenorfor fifteen minutes, till… Read more

Memory Clouds . . . the most benign symptom (Roland Barthes) memory clouds, as the say, feedon mountains, endlesshover that dwells, or dwelledelsewhere, and yeahbehold a punctured tyre, nightfeet acrossswollen floorboards, eachperception divides itself intoearth and air. In the theatreof crashing streets there is: a ladder of bird feathers children mock smoking with brokentwigs a… Read more

Went to a club last Thursday with my friend Andrew. My friend is 30 and they wanted his id. He was visiting Poland and did not bring his id to the club. I have never shown id in a Polish club before. There was a bit of an argument with the bouncer but nothing serious.… Read more

Detergents force out dirt and foam makes something out of nothing. Foam is the spirituality of luxury. The emperor’s new clothes are a reflexive lyric of the bodysoul. The washing machine is a house of memory and clothes are washed in epistemological soap bubbles. Lost socks for a new medium. Music hall of tumbling cycles.… Read more

I have been thinking about old patterns. In marriage therapy towards the end of my marriage I realised I needed to be more assertive. To tell my wife no sometimes. To take on more “masculine” traits in terms of being decisive and a bit less open etc. I believe in freedom. I hate jealousy. it… Read more

Read more

I did not teach today. It helped. I cleared a space for thinking and writing and reading. I am taking an 8 hour train to Gdansk tomorrow morning. I will need to find bananas before departing. I read some of Clayton Eshleman’s Companion Spider on Google reader. It inspired me to order some books. I… Read more

Auspicious Wanderings Auspicious Wanderings a lemmon seed floats in my milkauspicious wedding rings fall into drainpipesshadows stick to the branchescigarette butts smell like rotten peanuts Irish flem leaves my throat recovery is only partially responsible I might dance spermatic tissues block the heating ventsas an answer mercy swallows the cat’s tonguethe story of our masks… Read more

performing childhood is something elsewhere light is a lonesome hymntouching commits to memoryrhetorical proof in perpetual motionlove’s unbroken compositionapproaching the furthest moonsalvation among the borders of civilisationso tonight the gaps are graced migration to memory inside the praxis of livinga mongrel shake-downon the milk-stained carpet Read more

new issue of onedit is out today. It features complete works by Miles ChampionKhaled HakimHarry GilonisStephen RodeferEleni Sikelianos It is at: onedit Read more

Read more

Katowice is the city of mud. The Polish just throw a shit load of dirt on snow maybe to save money on salt and when it melts it mixes with the coal grime and it is just one big mess. Slipping and sliding in mud all over the city . . . Read more

http://www.youtube.com/p/D1597C2CAB3870FD Read more

still recovering. zofia got me a new shirt. dig it. Read more

got back to poland last night. fantastic new year’s eve party at Spencer Pub in Katowice. Lots and lots of wine and food and dancing. Now I have a serious hangover. it is 1:30PM. I am going back to bed :-) Read more

home for the holidays. a bit of rain. much warmer than poland. the airport took all my liquids so gotta find some more. trying to clear my head. hope it works. Read more

Godzeenie samples Read more

Routine. Just the right amount. I always try to time when I can eat so I have enough energy to get through my classes. Working split shifts makes it hard. I know when I teach a six hour shift in the afternoon with quick breaks I don’t have time to eat anything. The morning shift… Read more

Then:Now I loaned out my voice to a crumbling city and prepared kielbasa for the magic road to childhood. Along the way I found pecans in the irrigation ditch. I sold goldfish to teddybears. It isn’t easy to outlift the dust or outshift the universe. The nightbridge carries one-half the city and my soul is… Read more

Ice Age Debris yawning into eldervisions the priests honeyed their veins and hung their passions behind the cough on the snowed-out television. they nailed opposable thumbs on their wall to indicate their degree of passion and spray painted roses on the table. one day their folds of Jesusflesh sprung a leak. On the first day,… Read more

In Another Post-Communist Hotel the moon is a grenade in the Polish landscapesetting against the coal-smudged windowsone toilet and one shower for twenty minersthe truth is something that is re-castan orphic revolution in the grayed-out buildings and boot-smeared shitto become human is a continual inter-subjective projectart is non-instrumental communication in the darknesssarcasm may be a… Read more

I am ready for a break. Very ready. Walking through one of the world’s ugliest train stations four times a day is taking a toll. Worn out for sure. I am going to Portadown a week from Sunday for Christmas. Ah to hear English. Clean air. Green. Irish sausages. Butter. Bread. Counting down the days.… Read more

Read more

Expansions in the effects of grief memory was worthdoing over to arrive again in scattered kingdoms in the nameless book ofentwinementpronouns outnumber us&the heartis helixed can you troubleyourself enough to feelyour self expanding? Read more

Did a lot of reading and re-connecting and writing. Read some of Tost’s Complex Sleep, Theodore Enslin’s Then, And Now, and Susan Steward’s Poetry and the Fate of the Senses. God I miss reading and thinking. Only teaching for four hours on a Friday is helping me recover. The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy is… Read more

Read more

Lust In the sun the body bakesin extreme heatleftoverbonesare wrappedin tinfoiland disposedin the properreceptacle Read more

Water Circles The Eyes in the myopic arrivalof endtime thought beganin the soulless desert looking for lightbeneathrocks Read more

new direction for my manuscript. cleaning it up. finding my feet. forced language in previous versions felt forced. yes. the other versions were false starts. All new now. Here is the rough draft of the beginning: Because It Was Corporeal They Did It With Marvelous Sublimity our minds were not so much closed as unready… Read more

the new manuscript in process is now called Prodigal Drift rather than Memory Swerve. I am tightening it before moving on. Or actually I tighten it as I move. Clear out the space. Shed some light. Re-shuffle and re-organise and then get lost in the sweet chaos of language. I need both tendencies while writing… Read more

check out the poemfilms Rabbit light movies Read more

I am enjoying Alice Blue Review Read more

I woke up this morning at 6 am feeling the rut. A lot of teaching and little time or energy for reflection. I drank my white tea with honey. I spread some yellow paste on my Polish bread but the bread had hardened and it stuck to the roof my mouth. I walked out my… Read more

memory is tricky. geting wrapped up in the moment can be both good and dangerous. I have been re-reading my poetry manuscripts Hermit Kingdom and Godzeenie. I feel quite good about Godzeenie now that I have about five months distance from the manuscript. I need to send it out to publishers. I think part of… Read more

memory— —pulled up—like dandelions— fluffed and blown— memory —dead tree floating on a mountainof water— life does not beginauspicious Read more

a german football song on the train from regensberg :-) Read more

Read more

Read more

Read more

Read more

25 hours on trains this weekend but it was fab. Went to Prague and had a good night on the town hanging with Zofia and Andrew. Then we went to Regensberg in Bavaria on Saturday. It was my first time in Germany and it was quite a contrast to Poland and Czech Republic. Everything was… Read more

Things are different this time in the industrial city of Katowice. Slowly I am making some social contacts. But still no face to face contact with artists and writers. The internet has been a life saver. I went to a Halloween party last night at a local pub and it wasn’t too bad. It was… Read more

“pain and patience in the annealed life/ preceding harvest” (Theodore Enslin) by what cracked chimney does the would-be mercyescape in the Polish nightscape? pouring or pouredendlessly away, it was as yet caught betweenthe lit and unlit, ball of sandpaper, hewn at the edge of it throated soul wanting verge as yet to go elsewhereor no-where Read more

“. . . thought is a violent, cataclysmic operation, of which sweat is the most benign symptom” (Roland Barthes) shaven priest are supposedto be more temporal like clouds- as the say– or saidfeedon mountains, god-turned endlesshover who dwells– or dwelledelsewhere mountain fish– fresh– strangers in the headlights, eyeslow’ed better as yetnot to be seen Read more

from Memory Swerve gravewrangled in the night’srites embalmedhead dreamtimmunity held-oncatch whateverwas caught had been singingnot enough on punativewings local football team scribbled on Polishrocks thin linesnodding out returned lagg’d humm’d and drawnmade it a roadmade it a windflaghad it nowhere boundloose unanswered shout of ships blue back – – blueloose occupied in the descent orbiting… Read more

Verb patterns help to convincemake payencourage finishing Read more