the poetry that matters

gustave morin

gustave morin, a para-literary agent provocateur since his teens published widely, if obscurely has been working the associated fields of composition & performance, plying his various written works, graphic constructions & reluctant performances on the page, on the stage and in white cubes above ground and below since the late eighties. His newest book, 79 Little Explosions and Q-Bert Stranded on A Smouldering Mosquitocoil Frozen To A Space Formerly Occupied By Language was published in March 2009 by Stained Paper Archive. Other recent publications include Nein Typos (Tonerworks, 2008), Off the Fly (Griddle Grin, 2008), Les Scribblistes (Produce Press, 2008) and The Etcetera Barbecue (Bookthug 2006). His other titles include the marginalized midnight classic A Penny Dreadful (2003), p.mody’s dada boutique (1997), Sun Kissed Oranges (co-authored with Sergio Forest,1995), and Rusted Childhood Memoirs (1994). Meanwhile, typographic trade secrets gleaned through intensive study of concrete have become personal weapons of choice since 2008... Mr. Morin resides at Chez Gargoyle in an anonymous frontiertown in Canada where he somehow ekes out a modest existence working in the arts.

t h e  w o l f ( e )  l i f e





. . . knew his life was a little image of man's whole squish --


and that only seemed to him all the more all and everlasting, tiny


spurts of flame dying with defiance over shoots & shouts of denial .


all our grandeur, pulse of heart & epic glory comes from engulfing night . . .




... and of this flame, it there and then came to him that he would be extinguished .


life upon the earth -- its darkness was immense . life like a time we knew


we would blaze out briefly by these lips , & that the darkness would ring


with the last tragic dignity -- our heroes into the maw of all the brevity and small.



b r e a d  &  f l a m e  &  n o i s e


. . . zip oozing out . . . POW !

-- steal a bit . . . & HOW !

you seldom if we smite your name .

you never some battleship burnt .

hey look, the plot sickens -- give it a little loop .

knock-knock : jam that king mob cries crash .

& HOW ! its rumoured that i/m tick . . . BOOM !

cold can taste bent massive but not broken

as surely as you/re sitting there .

mongrel we say zoom through zounds --

tempest when tent , a foul mouth beep beep

that crime questions head off with the head . . .

only look in our minds / event ways to screaming

spare a little rough; broken chairs with any light .

face the line at nobody so & so to take the wall

blast you good how are you going ?

nova ?

a n t i q u e





an igloo




by the bank


of a river


of lava




by an icecube




to doubt


the promise


of an early







e x t r a c t i o n





words like teeth you don/t have


sound like dirt ain/t in whole


you dug for self bleeding a bit


the blood not blue with miles


to go-go and more too fallow .



i n k  o n  a  b e l l





indie 500 years X'd out-


side / sidewinded


: winded on arrival


it/ll never fly / away


, a way






a goner .



) groan debt  . grow depart (



part of it is gone .


what stains




what stars







c l a s s i f i e d





lost, a leaf


i wanted to keep


found on the 13th floor


& roof) of a down


town park-


ing garage.




it blew up


as i enjoyed


the vista


from on high.




the leaf was little,


the colour brown --


a shade away


from oblivion.



( leave a message...



s e i z u r e





further afield than far


where second nature adores a vacuuum :




wet cement shoes zero in on a zip gun


holding up a petting zoo at high noon




a pell mell black night in full tilt


is out of square to a T at curtain .



n o t e  f o u n d  u n d e r  a  r o c k





rebecome eggbound ! -- TA DA !


a dark blur turns a sharp curve :


a car went bye . went big . fast . hot . more .


bigger . faster . hotter . sooner . better .


anything you/d care to name --


(nothing new) fasting faster


than eating stomach


on an empty stomach .




a slow bullet // upsidedown trucks


driving backwards f a s t on the any road up


chockablock with cul de sac de jour .




( life the gangplank . this is not a step )




sidelong glances off a little bit to one blind side long glances off a little bit to one blind side


long glances off a little bit to one blind side


long glances off a little bit to one


blindside .


headbeat .


heartbeat .


eat !



o n c e  n o n c e





texcie mopie plextal sink



tuno tal tuno



brak fisbis



texcie sink











mopie brak plextal fisbus



tuno tal tuno



zimzum sink texcie



texcie sink









s o u v e n i r

when you were four

& took your crayons

& jammed them in to

the hole in the egg

& scribbled scribbled

you did not then know

years later the egg would crack

& the colours your child hand drew

would spill out all over

your grown-up landscape,

did you ?

s m e a r  c a m p a i g n


a document .

this happened .


this didn/t
take me very
long to write


pen &
paper :



paper :

noise  in
place  of



almost (

what this poem
l a c k s
is nothing

) perfect


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