When someone famous dies, can anyone tell me where it is that tributes actually pour in to? I’ve always wondered.
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It wasn’t so much thatthe stones couldn’t hold him.More that they refused to. All had been silent, struck dumb by deathly silence, but"All down here is petrified but him" they cried out,as he said they would."He could no more be made fossil relic by us thanthe sun that melts and sublimates" Don’t think it was [...] Modern/postmodern, epistemologyand philosophy,arguments about text,all distant hazes in the cortexas this one true sensationbecomes all reality: the pain of metal against boneand blood and bitter wine;hung in agonizing mezzanine:Father above, who sentand created earth below who received,both now turning in rejection,aiming their crude technologies.Pig iron and sacrifice. There is blood.I am finished. Advent. One of my favourite times of year. A time to wait. To anticipate. Or open cardboard windows and eat bland chocolates. And get pissed at work. Sometimes I wonder if, to bastardize Geldof et al, we know it’s Christmas time at all. Some trickster work to nudge us back in the right direction: paperlesschristmas.org [...] I was privileged to go and share some stuff at Si Johnston’s group here on the north coast of NI tonight, and one of the people there, who’d I spent some time with at the Soliton Sessions here last February, read a fantastic poem by the Pulitzer prize-winning poet Carl Dennis, which I just had [...] |
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