icean sound

microtonal rag wreaths of maudlinity across hum drone background sound emanating from the white box with the long black cord plugged into the wall behind the performers and cloth wrapped heads bowed peacock shapes and fat bellied sitars and tapped goatskin wrapped boxes white cloth flowed

Re: St. Pittsburg

My friend the writer called, the only one ever to make any money out of this godforsaken practice. He was in town, drunk and needed company. My friend the writer drank like a cement mixer swallows sand and occasionally blew his electrolytes into an accompanying oblivion. We met, in a bar that

I, He, She, They

I am He was She came They spoke I took He saw She thought They stood I laughed He cried She howled They demurred I ran He crept She slid They went I hit He bled She wept They are * http://homepage.ntlworld.com/matt.lee7 Blog

I am that which I am

I am what I am and what I am is an am. Am I what I am and an I that I am. That I am what I am and an I am am I. Which am I that am I and an am I am. I that am I am what and am I am. Am I that I am and what an am I am. *

Some words

Title: Some words; simply do Some words; simply do. Some words; simply say. Some words; simply feel. Some words; simply ask. Some words; simply come. Some words; simply see. Some words; simply show. Some words; simply wait. Some words; simply touch. Some words; simply stir. Some

Re: you

I turn you right round baby right round you turn round and round you turn - Original Message - From: Dan Waber [EMAIL PROTECTED] To: WRYTING-L@LISTSERV.UTORONTO.CA Sent: Sunday, September 04, 2005 12:07 PM Subject: you you

Re: beginning to think again, opening

no -Original Message- From: WRYTING-L : Writing and Theory across Disciplines [mailto:WRYTING- [EMAIL PROTECTED] On Behalf Of Steve Dalachinsky Sent: 05 September 2005 05:40 To: WRYTING-L@LISTSERV.UTORONTO.CA Subject: Re: beginning to think again, opening stop that drivel

beginning to think again, opening

As evening falls the laptop lamplight turns the face into a mask of passivity, the action slipping from head to hand like slow dripping ooze sliding down the surface of a shiny wall. My hand offers me hallucinatory eyes in its palmistry as I stare monotonously whilst drawing out of sight the

you see it's to do with the way in which the description

Is something, I don't know how to say this, better or worse, for what though, for fucking your arse, the description, but that stands for something, well the set of words then, these things do things and yet any words do things, things, you know, affect, force, things, doing it, working, yes

morrigan here

Hello ppl, it's me, morrigan, wryting out of matt's computer and, therefore, his e-mail programme. You know when you do something and you leave it, and then it just gets bigger and bigger, until you can barely go back to it, or look at it, well that's what's happened to me recently, with wryting