Part of the reading from last night at Xing the Line. Poems and stories from ongoing manuscript The Green Monk. Influenced by Mormonism, Lydia Davis, Ivor Cutler, James Tate, and others.
I read at Xing the Line last night. My last reading before leaving to live in Madrid. On the eve of the big vote. Maybe I will not be gone long. Who knows. I hope I am still an EU citizen after today. Then again I have been meaning to change my passport for an Irish one for a while. But it is a pain. My birth certificate says Silcock. I used to be Silcock. At age six I become Slease. Names and nations. Ugh!
Also Spain is electing a government this week. I am learning how to count in Spanish. Also vegetables. And the pronouns. There is a long way to go.
Fantastic reading last night. At The I’Klectik Art Lab. In Old Paradise Yard. Near Waterloo. Great art space. A great pleasure to read with the fabulous artists/poets Laura Wetherington (who is visiting all the way from Reno Nevada), and the amazing Stephen Watts. Great community. Great audience. We went to The Pineapple afterwards. Near William Blake’s house. Who has since departed.
Crossing my fingers for good results for UK tonight!
guess everyone needs to take a turn . . Department Books has some interesting stuff on the island . . onedit was the best magazine I have seen from the island . . and Mendoza is putting together a nice book of poems for a reading this week . . poems for Sonic Youth . . and that’s good . . very good . . and Steven Fowler kicked it up a notch . . a big notch . . and the Openned series . .now sadly gone . . and of course xing the line . . the main reading series in London for anything remotely interesting . . . I guess I am just wondering why London seems to lag behind virtually all mega cities for indie publishing and music . . maybe I am wrong . . maybe I just haven’t looked hard enough .. . of course there is plenty of interesting things to write with or about . . plenty of that . . and some good peeps . some great peeps. . . maybe things get gentrified ultra fast here . . east London is a stale stale stale centre of hipsters and unimaginative artists and writers and politics . . Brick Lane is the centre of staleness . . there are more interesting things in Ealing Broadway than Brick Lane and that’s not saying much . . . the forward prize rewards the most uninteresting safe stale writing on the island . . salt publishing publishes the most boring stale fiction and poetry on the island and then asks for money to keep them afloat and all the writers they published send them money to keep their stale boring ass writing afloat in a sea of mediocrity . . that’s the buzz word on the island . . mediocrity . . LONG LIVE MEDIOCRITY ON THE ISLAND . . is it the rain . . is it the pubs with stale carpet . . is it the black mould . . is it the poor blood circulation . . is it M. Thatcher . . is it D. Cameron . . is it the puppetmaster Boris J. . . is it too many very very bad pork pies . . it’s not the curry . . oh no . . it’s not that . . the curry is to die for . . .