ditch,

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

 

abandoned

 

by the bank

 

of a river

 

of lava

 

attended

 

by an icecube

 

beginning

 

to doubt

 

the promise

 

of an early

 

frost

 

.

 

 

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

 

along

 

ago

 

a goner .

 

 

) groan debt  . grow depart (

 

 

part of it is gone .

 

what stains

 

remains

 

what stars

 

mars

 

.

 

 

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

 

 

zimzum

 

 

 

---

 

 

 

mopie brak plextal fisbus

 

 

tuno tal tuno

 

 

zimzum sink texcie

 

 

texcie sink

 

 

zimzum

 

 

.

 

 

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 :

light
bulb
crinkle


.


rain
drops
water-
marking
paper :

b&w
noise  in
place  of

page


.


almost (

what this poem
l a c k s
is nothing

) perfect

 
 

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