Eva Jackson: 0033

My stuff

The blue-rimmed plates, the roasting pan;
All of the mugs except for the ones from France.
The Pauper's Cookbook, with its recipes for something, peas and ham
And cream in large amounts.

The real towel, and the towel that's a rag now
For mopping up spills,
The first-aid box of out-of-date, undated pills,
All the furniture, which harbours
Two-tone grains of woodworm larvas?
Larvae, and they're adults now
In any case. The landlord mustn't know.

Victoria Williams: 0186

Congratulations on your marriage. That ring will placate her, for a while. A little ice in a marriage is no bad thing. Get it into your head that water is an apt metaphor. The ground around here is sodden you’ll notice. There’s a spring. And the women on the land have access to a dark reservoir of simmering rage. Don’t watch for waves. Think of a plunge pool of unfathomable depth, in which the grievances of many years are still sinking with no sign yet of the bottom. A flat, still surface; a silent threat. Picture this, and watch for it in their eyes. That’s a warning. And listen for a low rumbling, and the rattling of the windows and doors. Over the years I’ve seen these events clear many shelves of their breakables; a purge of any attempt of mine to settle in. And so I live as I do – as you will do – in this old house, sleeping in a succession of rooms that are never mine, my belongings packed away in yet another.

Muse by Gary Cummiskey

Eva Jackson: 0032

Tide gone out

Something wants something you have, you
Want the surface of things.
Nothing is any good enough, you
Saw the edges off of things.
Then there was the peace of the bay and walking out like the mudflat birds
Thinking the dropoff severe, finding it actually just shades into deep and the part
Where it can accommodate a ship is far away from your hesitant feet.
And the sailors throw the frames of sim-cards, call-cards, among the gulls
Overboard, and call their loved ones, and you find them
Their plastic hearts removed, in the sludge.

Vieux Farka Toure at Rainbow Restaurant

Victoria Williams: 0185

Alan says, this is a new earth but the same old heaven; no-one on a social network can die alone.

Spaza: 0014

Click on photo to enlarge.

All Together In The All-together by Gary Cummiskey

Eva Jackson: 0031

Mandrax Slaves

Mandrax Slaves (1997, Gudari Press) by Max Moodley. 16-page, hand-made chapbook. A Durban woman infiltrates a Mandrax den to rescue her sister. 3 chapbooks were made. Out of print.

Victoria Williams: 0184

People back then could spend up to half of their lives waiting for love letters.

Spaza: 0013

Click on photo to enlarge.

Eva Jackson: 0030

Stacy Hardy Launching donga

Internet Sentences: 0018

I am a 58-year-old widow with a weight problem , a persecution complex and I am contacting  you because I don?t have any other option than to tell you as I know I won't survive for long and I was touched to open up to you about my project is worth ($10,000,000,000.00) Ten Billion Dollars which I intend to use for CHARITY.

Source: Junk Mail

Victoria Williams: 0183

If someone walked in now and saw how we’ve squeezed our lives into this one room, and now he lies on the bed lost in thought and I sit on the desk, and we listen to blues music in the evening, they’d probably be impressed at how it’s all fit together.

Spaza: 0012

Click on photo to enlarge.

A repurposed garage.

Gary Cummiskey In Conversation With Haidee Kruger At The Launch Of Her New Collection, The Reckless Sleeper

Eva Jackson: 0029

Novemberfest

It’s a moveable feast:
The Bierfest skips
From city to city, they
Have streamlined the ingredients of Party, there are
Serried ranks of benches,
Tokens
Bavaria
Sausage Platter from the canteen in the corner,
Tiny dirndl, corset, braids
Photobooth
Oom-pah.
It’s a month past October,
But still they strike up again.
Same perfect cast, and the waitresses
Without an inch of spare body fat
Have little bandages tied around their hands and wrists
To stop the mugs slipping:
Stigmata of the bierfest girls.

P

Victoria Williams: 0182

You should never meet your heroes. In the men’s room. When you’re a girl. Or if you do, at least try to make it look not so much like you were waiting...

Quote

“Simplify, simplify.” - Henry David Thoreau