Sunday, 13 September 2009

poem 13/9 no.2 - expeimental writing

Drink take pill
Political leaders
Sweet girls; Son of Man,
O let me burst
Your last legs?
Series of mechanisms:
“invention” (JFK, Khrushchev) –
Apparatus of production;
Devour our young,
Is there space in the space you
Space in having travelled quite a bit,
Never bring the dawn,
Face like biscuit
Burning fiercely
“it was really him that hailed” -

[Having looked at parts of JG Ballard's Short Stories vol. 2, Literary Theory: An Anthology Rivkin Ryan, Ted Berrigan's Sonnets, and maybe Apollinaire.]

*This poem was written fairly quickly using a sort of cut-up technique and appears as I first wrote it. I thought of using Berrigan's technique in his Sonnets, which I have. However, I didn't collect lines, I just glanced over random lines in books and used them. Turned into a nice little piece of experimental writing.

A little more work on that, and it would be a good piece of language.

** Also, the 'space in the space' line comes from Berrigan's line of 'Is there room in the room you room in.'

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