Wednesday, 28 November 2012

David Berridge, from The Poet is Working

An extract from The Poet is Working by David Berridge, forthcoming from Department Press

Sunday, 25 November 2012


Poetry /// from Department Press

Please join Department Press at Kraak, Manchester on Tuesday 27 November from 7.30 pm to hear readings from Sarah Crewe, Andy Spragg, Gareth Twose and Rhys Trimble.

Entry is free.


Sarah Crewe has recently co-edited Catechism: Poems For Pussy Riot. Her chapbook Aqua Rosa was released by erbacce earlier this year. She has a forthcoming chapbook, flick invicta, with Oystercatcher in 2013. She co-edits M58, an ezine for visual poetry, with Andrew Taylor. She has had work in Department, Otoliths, the Red Ceilings blog, erbacce and has work forthcoming in Tears In The Fence. 

Andrew Spragg is a poet, performer and critic. His books include The Fleetingest (Red Ceiling Press), Notes for Fatty Cakes (Anything Anymore Anywhere) and cut out (Department Press). He edits Infinite Editions, a blog that publishes free poetry postcards for download and distribution.

Gareth Twose is currently organiser of Writers' Forum North.  Co-organiser of recent Manchester Poets for Pussy Riot event.  Has recently had poems published in Sunfish, Depart, Assent, Litter web zine and 3 am (forthcoming).  Formerly a newspaper journalist.
Rhys Trimble: welsh poet of degrees & cutter & perforce performer DEARHWCH, PRY-LLWYD BLAIDD-BLOEDDIWR rascal...Bilingual poet based in Bethesda, North Wales . Improvisor interested in medieval welsh DEAD language & bilingual poetry, music/poetry, collaborations, digital-art and avant POST garde writing practices. Editor of Ctrl+Alt+Del Ezine and studying for a ‘psychomythogeographical’ PhD in creative writing. Stick banger, SHOUTYMAN.


Ali Znaidi, three poems


& the red sun discharges its radioactive rays
& the red sun spits radioactive invisible lava
stuffed w/ damp daffodils, the little ditches
smile at the radioactive contrite promises of
the red sun
& the red roses begin to carve a garden of
radioactive blood where children’s laughters
sun red sun
decants red wine
for daffodils
radioactive promises rehearsed


Fig Hallucinations



Spelling Mistakes

rite a passage a boat dying your hair
then weight till you get what you want
I want to take notice first
& wash my face w/ a hand full of water


Ali Znaidi lives in Redeyef, Tunisia where he teaches English at Tunisian public secondary schools. He writes poetry and has an interest in literature, languages, and literary translations. His work has appeared in The Camel Saloon, phantom kangaroo, BoySlut, The Rusty Nail, Shot Glass Journal, the fib review, streetcake magazine, Ink Sweat and Tears, Mad Swirl, The Red Ceilings blog, & other ezines. His debut poetry chapbook Experimental Ruminations was published in September 2012 by Fowlpox Press (Canada). He also writes flash fiction for the Six Sentence Social Network—

Saturday, 17 November 2012

Chris Stephenson, from REALITY HACK


Administered Daily.

On Earth as it is

inside the limited plane of Consciousness.

This week’s episode

Extracted from the brains of circus animals.

Mass multiple personality syndrome

fashioned with strobe lighting and fluoride

daytime tv polygraph tests.

Singing, swearing and praying corpus callosum.

That’s what happens when we take too much medication.

Implants can block a complete understanding.

Additional memory chips could provide 700 extra emotions.

Richly suggestive obscurity

Nonsensical surface-performance.

Primary order resonance

in the pixelated ZOOM IN.

£4.94 a week at 29.9% interest

plasma screen tomorrow obliterates today.

 “This is our most up to date version of reality”

All sectors replicate the whole.

No definite location.

Disembodied frequency perception.

Within the atoms

Unoriginated, Uncreated

A profound illusion


It’s a nasty little bug
Gets in under the fingernails and breeds there
Spreading signals throughout the epidermis.
The nagging suspicion that
You will NEVER be great, that YOU will

Your sour faced sense of entitlement
into the back of that toddler’s head.

“I was bored sat around
so I took some laxative”

“If you go and see Grandma
She’ll give you some tomato sauce sandwiches”

“What did you do?”
“I stuck a trowel in somebody’s leg”

“People hang themselves around here if you give them too much string”

This is EMBOLISM No.85
and there are barely fifteen minutes left of your life.

‘God being supremely good and omnipotent
must produce the best possible world all the time/
And although the lower surface is often coloured in an obscure manner
as a protection/



                             /here the largest sheep goes astray, the one of which
the shepherd is particularly fond of.’
Charity Shop
(Do You want a bag with that, Dear?)

False leg

Hand gun

Box of Human hair

Urn of ashes

False teeth

Enema kit

Jar of gallstones

Used disposable nappies

Glass eye in a velvet lined box

Baby mice

Sellotape Meerkat

Pirate DVD of Michael Jackson’s Moonwalker.

Half empty tube of Durex lubricant


Emergency distress flare

Luminous pink distressed leather dildo fist

Shower cubicle

34 year old condom

Freeze dried astronaut ice cream

Live parrot


Lost your job?
Refused a mortgage?
Furious your taxes are being used
To prop up another bank?

Threat u Check
from VeriChip and JML

Small. Light. Easy to use...


Greater freedom to do the things
That are important to you.

Improved therapy management.

Minimal disruption to daily life,
Work commitments and credit card payments.

On a permanent state of alert?
Terrorised by loud music on the bus?
Dreading the snow?
Worried by the latest, empty, meaningless
colour coded threat level?
Unsure when to take your next dose?

Our patented barcode scan enabled
implant can be programmed to
trigger the TV to play over 100 pre-set
shopping channels, order your dinner,
provide a steady pulse of electro shock therapy
to calm you down when it is needed most.

Clinically proven to remove
all but the most stubborn brains.

Free Magic Duster with each purchase. *   **

* At participating surgeries
** While stocks last


Today’s White Self Satisfied Middle Class Art Safari through ‘broken’ Britain is sponsored by IBUCALM (400mgs in candy pink handful doses)
And includes the works

Yorkshire Pudding Time Dilation 60cm x 80cm
Acrylic, automatic writing and Ouija Board activity on canvas.

Ever took a punch to the ribcage, Sonny? 120cm x 120cm
Acrylic, nightmares and sociopathic daydreams on canvas.

I Am Your Hand. 60cm x 80cm
Acrylic, self congratulatory spit on the wall and hypocrisy on canvas.

VITTU : Triptych. 180cm x 240cm
Acrylic, human detritus, inter-dimensional flotsam, collage, on wooden panels.

The 9 Billion Names of God. 37mm x 35mm
Black ink on First Class Royal Mail postage stamp.

If You are not hungry, I urge You not to eat. 185cm x 132cm
Acrylic, collage, diseased souls in denial reflecting in Ikea mirrors.



No matter how hard you try
You will NOT manage to still
The empty gnawing horror of The Abyss

By calling EVERYONE in your phone book
the moment you go on the train
to tell them that you just got on the train.

By attention deficit disorder cycling
through every single polyphonic, newly downloaded ringtone
until everyone feels like strangling you.

By shouting loudly that you don’t give a monkeys
what anyone thinks of you, while desperately
drawing attention to yourself by using
tinny bass free pointless speakers
to play the finest chipmunk speedfreak broken beats.

Thank you for your co operation.


The Elimination of feeling

spirals out of states of

unsatisfied ravenous desire.

Earthquakes, violent acts

drugs, crime and obesity

land erosion, depletion.

More locks, more alarms.

$876 billion exquisitely crafted

Third Eye murder.

The Western Worlds indiscretions

a painful withdrawal sound.

American exported inattention

hardwired to permanently desire

more memories of celebrity events.

Most modern collective memory

a multimedia Thodol list.

How to police tape second bardo.

The always on television

Ronald Reagan euphoria window

the keep your child connected

cheap and abundant

cable channel established

full "phantom" purchasing capacity

"live better today" children

daydreaming nothing.

"The TV babysitter"

created particular parental traits .







Television news fear.

air pollution.

negative home equity.

population reduction.

giant asteroids.

the only soul we can attain airbrushed by artists.

ways of life we don’t recognise .

people who fear”

foreign dependence. 

Mindless Consumerism

tries and fails to discover existence.

We are being sped-up, slowed down.

A continuous barrage

overflowing with the beautiful/the terrible.

Moronic sitcoms fuel

motion picture larval state.

Shows are guardians of the West’s basic imprisonment.

Television offers viewers the chance to keep the dead inside you.

Celebrity is a person become reflex, Future Production.

Education merely illusions emanating the TV how box.

Unable to avoid dream overlapping.

Lifestyle choices imprinted in the lonely night.

Recognize the Voidness as Humans defer The Now.

Disposable century daily examples of escape

6 billion and counting living in fear.

Media mentality 8th century.

Happy to bomb them back to the stone age

while the dumb jock soils himself

the housewife heart gives out


dreams of Deferred Debt Repayment descend again.



They are trying to take my teeth. Taking out different ones and tossing them away or just replacing them in the same gum holes when they realise they are no good. They are looking for one that can take an implant. Teeth

everywhere. Falling out. Too many overflowing from my mouth. Horrible, helpless sensation. I keep finding them in my hand. Dry. Bone. Enamel. Silver fragments of filling.

They keep finding things wrong. Some teeth are too small, with massive long twisted, elaborate root systems. Some are huge and bulbous, like mutated potatoes. Some already have implants inside somehow. This appears to be a source of confusion and serious concern to them.

My teeth can play music. Bizarro world sensation. Each tooth plays multiple sounds and notes when I open and close my mouth. It is very strange at first. Mouth farting clumsy noises like an entire band of mouth

organs and accordions being tuned up. Starts to become intuitive. Simple. Natural. Im able to play music just by opening and closing my mouth. The teeth don’t move at all, although it feels like they should move like keys.

I am playing an elaborate version of the tune from Close Encounters. Funny. Hilarious. I wake up laughing and smiling. Later, can’t shake a strange remnant that this was all just another layer of the dream designed to obscure what they were really doing to me.