letters from a bowlderizer

 


“Our worst fear in Scooby Doo
is not that we may be confronted
with our demons, but that our demons
may be already existent in the daily
economic reality we are forced
to participate in.”

we have a right to reality
says the shock jock / whoops / smash
your face through a glass
coffee table / pirouette down
onto the kerb / easy to explain:
asserting your reality over
others is genocide / strap in /

just cancel culture in its entirety /
start over with this / now / now here /
what we call folk or world music /
just us being doing ourselves / this
happening / no outside to art / no
mending walls / your bordering on
living parody / first as tragedy then /

lock on / wholly / divest them
from this turf / use the imperative
sentence mood / you’re flirting
with mistress now / the distressed
denim speaks louder than nail
bombs / this is an image / this
is a petty projection of working
classrooms / the gears shift /

cell work. Dahl is cooked. which
twit was it ferrying bread in his
beard across the peace wall?

did baudelaire’s skull suggest the derive?
strolling through the park ignorant of
the pathways, bee line to the Michael
Foot monument to take on the swastikas
with a tooth brush –

Is Ballard still in the weeds on the central reservation?
our patience chafes in the crotch area, all
this toiling palpating the concrete island
with our bare feet, executing a will we’re
not sure we manage –

the bad work of art is like
Mussolini hanging upside down
from a street lamp / selfie shock /
if it wasn’t posted did it actually
even happen / this little piggy
went to Westminster Bridge
and climaxed with love for
all the capital / what words
are worth / dot in the launderette /

“Destruction and violence!
How is the ordinary man
to know that the most
violent element in society
is ignorance”

swinging from the rafters /
his high business is in tatters /
shadowfax is off to the knackers /
the social lubricant comes in pipes /
allowances / misogynist grifters / are
you inside the walls of the polis? /
do you reject that which you don’t
immediately understand? / is it
an affront to your firmly held
sense of self to be confronted
by the weird and eerie? / boot
gagging / soporifics / slam a
stanza into the vacant chest
cavity of your embarrassing
personified love of nothing /

“There is a mistaken notion
that organization does not foster
individual freedom; that, on the
contrary, it means the decay of
individuality. In reality, however,
the true function of organization
is to aid the development and
growth of personality.”

if you want to be neat and tidy
there’s libraries needing your
dewey decimal fixation / keep
out of art / scaffolding the
bourgeois premise of selfhood
with quirky stories about going
shopping for toothpaste / so
what if this rants? / there’s much
to be hated / and more to be loved /

to transition is not to edit – to live
loving the living you are – at arm’s reach
– this child, your child – protected not
from these painted nails, this voice at
work – dress rehearsal raga – just passing
by – turning my swivel eyes – desires –
deliberately misunderstood – beneath
the stone island a standard issue homophobe
– boring bile – dull rage – midafternoon sigh –
– as if for the first time – ambient hatred –
the solidarity of a vigil – and so gathering –
your gender is a weapon – & disarm – ease
in, close to choice – any cop might pull a fast
one – quickly – pitch a tent – huddle – loved =

rant Yr love, love tender in anger,
stamp your love into the wet mud
of fucking lovability, fireman’s grip, let
Yr love stun like a flashbang, love
like a soup lovingly made tired of
a weekend, stilts of tender stem
brocoli, demand utopia, love like
it’s going out of Business, love beyond
mortgage, stealth, privitisation,
love beyond doubt, envy, antipathy,
scolding, knuckle dusters, prime time,
urination, toiletries, shelf life, loafing,
demonstrable worry, nipples, shreds,
garnets, cormorants, spew, motor cars,
ring roads, ferrous metals, banana peels:
if not now then when? love like listening closely
at length without yawning or interrupting
or fidgeting or glancing round the room or
staring at the ceiling post-coitus

you are another
blithe proletariat / you are loved.

sisyphus stands corrected:
they installed a line graph
at the base of the mountain
and umms and ahhhs of
appreciation fester in the
foothills, checking in nude
wonder the pace, the inches
per second, the variable
weather conditions = don’t
imagine him happy: imagine
sisyphus father of the grindset

“The gang always experiences
a moment of revelation and
catharsis at the end of each
episode when they discover
that these phantoms of their
imagination were actually
financial actors working
within the chaotic environment
of late capitalism.”

& so comrade goat butts her way
into the bailiff’s van and
gobbles the longlist of addresses
needing a prepayment meter.

if it doesn’t work at least it doesn’t work
because you tried something new and
not because you tried to follow a recipe
sketched on the inside of your skull
by the midwife, ideology

 

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Matt Carbery
Illustration: Claire Palmer

 

 

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