Fluland published 10 of my nomadic surrealist stories/prose poems from my book The Green Monk (forthcoming from Boiler House Press on 5th November 2018). Some Las Vegas immigrant stories. Gold chains and french kissing. Aliens and fig leaves. German Edelweiss hidden in bibles. And much more! Thank you Fluland!! Check
There are so many of them. Don’t you get tired. Reading all those words. Dry lifeless fossilised language. Every technology leaves something behind. There is a cost, always, with traveling from one technology to another. For example from oral literature to written, and now, maybe the omega point, the internet.
Las Vegas had a show on the telly, it was exotic and foreign, hard to imagine, and we were going there, as immigrant pioneers, for a better life, like immigrants and migrants the world over, changing their languages and also adding to the host languages, the big mixing bowl, maybe.
Panmelys wrote a nice review of my nomadic poetry. She writes: “seeking otherness Of a soul, hungering after ‘Hiraeth’. Which means ‘A longing for something This World can never give’, Celtic source, with an Emphasis on ‘This’ as opposed to ‘Other ‘world” I like this very much. I think it