.and what will be left of them?
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Published this month by the wonderful transgender-focused Topside Press. Which you should probably read first, and, furthermore, Stephen Ira has already called dibs on writing the definitive critical analysis. And who am I to try anything that would approach violating a double-doggy pact with Stephen Ira? 8220;Fuck a scarcity paradigm.
Houses On The Borderland - Last Broadcast At Boleskine. The problem is that bathetic remark has come back to haunt me over the last month and I am more convinced than I would like to be that the word of the aeon is porcine. The hotel and its surroundings were pure The Beast Must Die.
Wednesday, 8 February 2017. Not being publicly available is there? Especially as setting it up in Blog format was a bit of a labour of love. Apologies for dead links and inserts. Monday, 29 February 2016. Sunday, 28 February 2016. Bass in the studio as instrument.
For it is the duty of the good man to teach others the good that you could not work because of the malignity of the times or of fortune, so that when many are capable of it, someone of them more loved by heaven will be able to work it. Thursday, 22 May 2014. Elson herself is another male fantasy, but perhaps not exhausted by that status.
The inkwell has inevitably dried up somewhat as energies are pooled into Plasm. And four months without posting here seems like forever. Has belatedly appeared however, replete with a contribution from Simon Munnery no less, though it will sadly be the last in the conventional glossy manifestation that had looked to be serving it so well. My self-illustrated article on hauntology, Giving Up The Ghost. Crowd, the trivia of a wider hauntolog.
The last few weeks has been dominated by RIDETHEJUDD. Debord, Kotanyi, Vaneigem, Theses on the Paris Commune. He got them to follow him first into monastic seclusion at Menilmontant, and then on a fantastic journey to the East in search of the ideal woman,. Internal conflicts brought an end to this mystical phase. By 1848 Saint-Simonianism had no organisation.
Wednesday, 13 April 2011. Tuesday, 12 April 2011.
Sunday, 9 August 2015. Saturday, 4 July 2015. If you are wondering what I am up to these days, I am also over here. Tuesday, 23 June 2015. Monday, 20 April 2015. Wednesday, 25 March 2015. Right, we are Wetherspooning.
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And what will be left of them? All our times have come. Here, but now theyre gone. Faces On Posters Too Many Choices 1980s. Up Close And Personal 1990s and the Millennium. Wednesday, 25 March 2015. Right, we are Wetherspooning. Http www.jdwetherspoon.co.ukhomepubsthe-lord-moon-of-the-mall. The Rockingham arms at approx 730. Http www.jdwetherspoon.co.ukhomepubsthe-lord-moon-of-the-mall. Then Hipster fun in New Cross at 930 ish. Http www.royalalbertpub.com. Saturday, 7 March 2015. Which.CONTENT
This web page andwhatwillbeleftofthem.blogspot.com states the following, "And what will be left of them? All our times have come." We saw that the webpage said " Here, but now theyre gone." It also said " Faces On Posters Too Many Choices 1980s. Up Close And Personal 1990s and the Millennium. Wednesday, 25 March 2015. Right, we are Wetherspooning. The Rockingham arms at approx 730. Then Hipster fun in New Cross at 930 ish. Saturday, 7 March 2015."SEEK SIMILAR DOMAINS
I just met you and I love you. Cause I have another blog to rant to now. My blog, is your blog. To find perfection in my pride. To see nothing in the light. Living life inside a dream. Katy Perry is loved, many many. For the record, I still have my virgin lesbian kiss.
Collection of personal work, including, but not limited to, poetry and photography. And when I see you. Same story, different place.
1984 Acrylic on canvas, 155 x 185 cm. THERE IS A GOOD AMOUNT OF PYREX FANART ON ETSY.
But tonight is only you and me.
Ldquo;A poem, being an instance of language, hence essentially dialogue, may be a letter in a bottle thrown out to the sea with the surely not always strong hope that it may somehow wash up somewhere, perhaps on the shoreline of the heart. Toward what? Toward something open, inhabitable, an approachable you, perhaps, an approachable reality. Such realities are, I think, at stake in a poem.