For the happy man! - Collected writings DEPRESSION: Ed Atkins

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[...] Can you smell that? (*RUMMAGE*) How about now? See the shuffling, idiot figure a few hundred yards ahead? Have you noticed the slipstream of rancid vapour we’re in? – That hallucinogenic wind that conjures and affords this whole scenario? Is everything losing its edge, everything bleeding into everything else? A pixelation or a Gaussian blur or a pornographically short depth of field creating the most abject, vivid kind of attention in me: details (a lesion, maybe – or just its wet, ragged edges) prick my eyes like vinegar. The rest – the blur – sloshing in corneal recesses like that tide of saliva involuntarily summoned before vomiting. Magic, metallic saliva. Is that how you’d describe it? An emetic avant-garde? (*SMACK!*);
A tsunami of mice breaking cover into a clearing, fleeing a forest fire, the grass of the clearing seething. The mice maggots, the grass the flank of a long-ago fallen horse. The mice blow-flies, the grass your own sullen scalp, magnified 20x. The mice sepia flames in soft-focus, the grass a microcosm of the forest that’s being devoured by flames some half a mile behind the fleeing mice. The mice an army of red ants attending to an unseen queen, the grass the perpetually decomposing forest floor. The mice a shower of summer rain, the grass some intricate Venetian-esque blind, part-drawn across one panel of the glass roof of your conservatory. The mice your fingers moving through and parting the hair of [...], the grass. The mice a landslide or an avalanche, watched in awe and safety from the banked cockpit of a helicopter, a thousand feet up; the grass, the devastated village below. Etc. And now I’m squinting through a prism of tears, crystallised at the corners into sedimentary glue to wake up with – to lie with, blind but awake for a few terrified years, eyes and eyelids in a loving, desperate clinch after a sordid night transformed into objects embedded in your rock-like skull. Sorry, my rock-
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-- For the happy man! Collected wri
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Minotaur 2013
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Depressions
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The proper work of a thumb lies in
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are simply weapons for piercing the
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Dear [...] This will be presented i
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The repulsion of two-two fleshy mag
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moons. Simply depressions, concave
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forms to depress. A critique of dep
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motor cortex (a plague), Gyrus (‘
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ER! - Cuneus (the scene at the bott
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Or tears, of course 2013
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(Flat palm butts flat door - though
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tion is his own) O! - This always-a
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Else flattened by the interminable
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As in: light-like curves that pass
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Liquid crystals running terminal co
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the fuck away - and then STRAIGHTAW
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ness. I conjure the very medicine t
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Warm, Warm, Warm Spring Mouths 2013
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And no provision has been made for
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And this whole thing a concession,
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And it’s not too much to imagine
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And bullet-time, really, is a lifes
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gallon or so of PVA semen. Dispassi
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Inexpensive. Which is part of it, t
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This is no longer an experience, bu
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A heavy mood that turned away from
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(Is this thing on?) And a trellis o
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Into the cool water. This one goes
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This one goes out to your singular
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I don’t want to hear any news on
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I wanted to ask whether you thought
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legibility. A primordial story of s
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owner of the eyelash, your lover. B
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The smell was certainly sexual, I t
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discrete line to slight-inked line
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oily substance not unlike jojoba, f
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muscles) Averting our eyes from one
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late to be a fucking lie told badly
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fingernail, most likely. Fingers re
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great prairies of skin are, in each
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the same mistake again. The dead ey
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-Resembling the lichen that seems t
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A tumour (in English) 2011
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punctuation and that peculiar synta
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and waning produces a horrific pull
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frozen, unknown. It’s not mine, t
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pink, marbled-looking veneer inspir
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notch at its highest point with a c
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[...] If it’s like this in the mo
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the crew: Fletcher, the navy techni
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scenes remind us that this isn’t
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Grotesque, just like this text here
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The tumour, spanning many acres now
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TEETH, and a battle is pitched betw
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A cave again, this time somewhere i
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The underside of a banana slug. The
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taxidermist, so as to preserve its
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a golf ball. I fucking hate golf, y
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As previously discussed elsewhere,
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varieties: RODS AND CONES (rods of
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Feel its tentacular motion inside y
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droxyurea, Hydrea, Idarubicin, Idam
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of blasé humanity writhing happily
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Do it 2013
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Graciousness - hospitality at all c
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- My daughter says she loves to ice
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Or remembering thinking: I used to
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Or the admission that I bought a kn
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Or the gap in the journal here. A f
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Or someone once writing something a
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Or that an index of absence is a so
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Or something like that. Diminished
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gler, to be precise - on to the arm
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Or the too-late comprehension that
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Or there’s THIS, off the TOP OF M
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tralaminar nuclear group (baffled a
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incerta (lopsided), PITUITARY GLAND
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have - the other seemingly a king o
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The brute indomitability of a list.
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Or a massive tattoo of a shark bite
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Or, to focus a little, the reptilia
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Or, that we are not limited to verb
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Or perhaps it’s more useful to be
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Or... I suppose. False positives an
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Or confiding that the head eventual
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Or you climb the dangling rope left
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Or a diagonal movement across bus s
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Or being an aggravation of the exis
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Or again, in 2012, albeit INTERNALL
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Three shorts 2012 - 13
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jaw, eight twice, From what I can m
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of fecklessness and animal despair.
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ing the problem. We’ll shave arou
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Horse-head or Triangulum Emission G
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Meringue 2011
Page 313 and 314: Somebody’s baby boy
Page 315: Somebody’s Baby Boy, half dead, s
Page 320 and 321: like skull; your skull is more poro
Page 322 and 323: those trapdoor spiders - those trap
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Page 362 and 363: valued member of the team’. A ton
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© Ed Atkins 2013 -- For the happy
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For the happy man! - Collected writings DEPRESSION: Ed Atkins

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