ARTHUR DIES, VOL. 3, by Olchar E. Lindsann
This is an epic poem of that eldritch troubling time, issuing from a vast swarming archaeology as it might have been. Discover a land in which history, legend, death, language, and the world itself are otherwise than even if we think it, where magic infuses, confuses the words that describe it, as if – where discontinuity even infects the grammar of another, a bleary consciousness of another, reality – drift-read upon the current scene of bloodshed, deceit, and the insistent gnarled hope and striven mourning for a better world: ARTHUR symbolized the dream to come, where meaning flows as music overpast; a dank vanished temporal slaughter swale (that of Albion, womb of Blake) where the spells of words became cemented never – where rhythmic abstraction and storytelling tangle in mutabilitous dance: shamanic trance-speech, a fantasy uttered from within: for such is Arthur’s dream – Jack A. Withers Smote
Vols. 1 & 2 also available at
n.b.: a differenza che in passato, dal 1 agosto 2018 i post di slowforward.net non vengono pubblicati in automatico sul mio profilo https://www.facebook.com/differx, ma sulla pagina fb di slowforward:
LES ÉCHIQUIERS EFFRONTÉS
by MARK YOUNG
“Duchamp’s Nude came eddying down the staircase carrying a chessboard & some sort of dictionary. ‘Your move,’ she said. I started with ‘angular.’ She won in less than ten moves. Kept on winning. Even when I painted the board red she beat me. It wasn’t until I started opening with Smurfs or the sigils of YouTube & Facebook, things she’d never seen before, that I began to be competitive. I finally won when I brought Nelson Mandela forward. That’s when Daddy stepped in. I never won again. ‘A readymade Mark,’ he called me,” Mark Young – Conceptual and surrealist visual poetry constructed on chessboard grids by the Australia-based poet and editor of the international journal, Otoliths.