Sunday, 8 April 2007

Special Prompt Set for Monday & Tuesday (Poetry & Prose)

Read these out loud, copy them, sort them a;phabetically, read them again, print them out and cut them up, read them again. Read them until some of the phrases feel like they are burning, then begin, but here's the deal.

You can keep a copy of these words but you have to (two consecutive days) WRITE WITHOUT** YOUR MONITOR OFF, write so you cannot see what you've written... (If you can't do that, set text to white so it's white on white)

(COUGH** that should read as "with", but you knew that right?)

Write RAW, fast, feeling sick and giddy, panicky, don't worry about the text, follow the gut... when eventually you finish, let it stew and while, then return and tidy.

There are TWO days here


When I woke up I was in a forest

After 3,272 miles

I knew nothing, I could do nothing, but see

a 52-year-old Slovenian

And as I watched, all the lights of Heaven

a swim down the Amazon

faded to make a single thing, a fire

something he's already done

burning through the cool firs

the drive from Miami to Seattle

Then it wasn't possible any longer

despite having difficulty standing

to stare at Heaven and not be destroyed

ordered by the doctor not to swim

You could have been just another maggot

by telephone from the Amazon

squirming over hostory's roadkill

There will be a ceremony Sunday

instead a witch took pity on you

night swimming

you know neither the place or the hour

English by satellite phone

Hexed once and for all in her open hours

the closer he got to Belem

the evning slips you into it

a lot of influence

slowly the poison the whole blood fills

I think the animals have just accepted me

in signs that can't be helped, geese heading south

such pain in his arms

the woman once had danced at ebbing tide

he redirects my thinking to other things

there must be a place where the whole of it comes right

even though sometimes I fall asleep

the little boy buggered and strangled in the wood

a pillow-case for protection

is comforted by his parents and comforts his parents

his lips became blistered and scabs formed

and everything horrible is understood

the small town of Urucurituba

For at least six million reasons or else no light

Danube, Mississippi, Yangste

There must be somewhere it doesn't happen like this

maybe in a lake or an ocean

Where the drowned men rise, waklk back from the boats in the evening

I am not going to do the Nile, it's just a small creek

and the lost child sings on her new-made father's knee

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