For the happy man! - Collected writings DEPRESSION: Ed Atkins
For the happy man! - Collected writings DEPRESSION: Ed Atkins For the happy man! - Collected writings DEPRESSION: Ed Atkins
Into the cool water. This one goes out to the sand-blasted basement, priorly encrusted with the obscene graffiti of a listless troupe of AWOL Legionnaires, chronicling, after the fashion, their rise and fall from the sun’s favour. This one here, here, here is not a holiday destination. Just to be clear. Loud and clear: This one goes out to the teetering heaps of countless vitamins walking upright along the beach toward the harbour, gingerly avoiding rock-pools and the inbound tide. In flagrant excess of your RDA. And barrels of salted meat and fish; great coils of neckthick rope; freshly laundered linen from the lover’s cabins down below and huge, plunging necklines of sail slung across the rigging and the skeletal masting. Drying in the sun. A den beneath. And I’d lie beneath this erased planetarium – the only celestial body, the sun, appeased, buttered under there – me buzzing from a fill of dry sherry, dry white wine. Pickling in the HERE. And shooting fiery, Martian scotch poured
from crystal decanters into crystal tumblers. The scrape and fit of sanded glass stoppers; the facets of the crystal throwing slivers of light, ventriloquising the sun’s baritone in an elegant soprano: I don’t want to hear any news on the radio about the weather on the weekend. Talk about that. Once upon a time a couple of people were alive who were friends of mine. The weathers, the weathers they lived in! Christ, the sun on those Saturdays.
- Page 18 and 19: Dear [...] This will be presented i
- Page 20 and 21: The repulsion of two-two fleshy mag
- Page 22 and 23: moons. Simply depressions, concave
- Page 24 and 25: forms to depress. A critique of dep
- Page 26 and 27: motor cortex (a plague), Gyrus (‘
- Page 28 and 29: ER! - Cuneus (the scene at the bott
- Page 31 and 32: Or tears, of course 2013
- Page 33 and 34: (Flat palm butts flat door - though
- Page 35 and 36: tion is his own) O! - This always-a
- Page 37 and 38: Else flattened by the interminable
- Page 39 and 40: As in: light-like curves that pass
- Page 41 and 42: Liquid crystals running terminal co
- Page 43 and 44: the fuck away - and then STRAIGHTAW
- Page 45 and 46: ness. I conjure the very medicine t
- Page 48 and 49: Warm, Warm, Warm Spring Mouths 2013
- Page 50 and 51: And no provision has been made for
- Page 52 and 53: And this whole thing a concession,
- Page 54 and 55: And it’s not too much to imagine
- Page 56 and 57: And bullet-time, really, is a lifes
- Page 58 and 59: gallon or so of PVA semen. Dispassi
- Page 60 and 61: Inexpensive. Which is part of it, t
- Page 62 and 63: This is no longer an experience, bu
- Page 64 and 65: A heavy mood that turned away from
- Page 66 and 67: (Is this thing on?) And a trellis o
- Page 70 and 71: This one goes out to your singular
- Page 72: I don’t want to hear any news on
- Page 75 and 76: I wanted to ask whether you thought
- Page 77 and 78: legibility. A primordial story of s
- Page 79 and 80: owner of the eyelash, your lover. B
- Page 81 and 82: The smell was certainly sexual, I t
- Page 83 and 84: discrete line to slight-inked line
- Page 85 and 86: oily substance not unlike jojoba, f
- Page 87 and 88: muscles) Averting our eyes from one
- Page 89 and 90: late to be a fucking lie told badly
- Page 91 and 92: fingernail, most likely. Fingers re
- Page 93 and 94: great prairies of skin are, in each
- Page 95 and 96: the same mistake again. The dead ey
- Page 97 and 98: -Resembling the lichen that seems t
- Page 100 and 101: A tumour (in English) 2011
- Page 102 and 103: punctuation and that peculiar synta
- Page 104 and 105: and waning produces a horrific pull
- Page 106 and 107: frozen, unknown. It’s not mine, t
- Page 108 and 109: pink, marbled-looking veneer inspir
- Page 110 and 111: notch at its highest point with a c
- Page 112 and 113: [...] If it’s like this in the mo
- Page 114 and 115: the crew: Fletcher, the navy techni
- Page 116 and 117: scenes remind us that this isn’t
from crystal decanters into crystal tumblers.<br />
The scrape and fit of sanded glass stoppers; <strong>the</strong> facets<br />
of <strong>the</strong> crystal throwing slivers of light, ventriloquising <strong>the</strong> sun’s<br />
baritone in an elegant soprano:<br />
I don’t want to hear any news on <strong>the</strong> radio<br />
about <strong>the</strong> wea<strong>the</strong>r on <strong>the</strong> weekend.<br />
Talk about that.<br />
Once upon a time<br />
a couple of people were alive<br />
who were friends of mine.<br />
The wea<strong>the</strong>rs, <strong>the</strong> wea<strong>the</strong>rs <strong>the</strong>y lived in!<br />
Christ, <strong>the</strong> sun on those Saturdays.
Change language