“Cronin Culture: Notes Towards A Definition.”

MTC Cronin’s BESTSELLER (Vagabond 2001)

Michael Farrell

SECOND

Was a name under which I wrote no poems
A fond secrecy kept or meant
On such a scarlet day
Red gramophones red walls red canvasses
Sedition in the smallest rooms of the houses
Food at every meal
And men smiling
At simply any of the women
A total shadow cast to ground
By their lust
Only the dreamers still gambling with light
Flushed and unsettled
Crouching like bushes in the busy portals
Out in the yard
What more symbolic
Than a young cow
And less than an heir apparent
Though this was the native land of none
The grasses honest with each other
Swaying by the ears of judges
The dirt black
And mountains meaning something else
Than mountains
On such a scarlet day
Red closed up inside of books
Designed to cause fires
And love comes second
In the hole of the least animal
In which this shattering lies
A name heavier-than-air

MTC Cronin


cover

red (blank?)

if im the reader where am i from

every lie a statement. (each p. blank?)

getting things down / not self-expression, world expression

mtc

bestseller

are these not poems but texts a new kind of poem

is it bad taste to ask such questions

‘We have managed to compare a leg with a bowl of
noodles ... And still not panic’

an outrageous statement?

dialogue of self

counterculture (not steak & chips)

there are ways for readers to create rhythms

by p10 getting it

so used to shakespeare ... no... myself

the distance is important

who are

murmurs / chorus

unprose — torn

a new remains
what interests me is the task

affirmation ...

thoughts of rupert brooke — ‘Second’ could be a poem
of WWI & suggests the book in hand will catch alight

the trench ant: this is uncertainly living

(i haven’t read pat barker)

lines stuck together that are apart

the character from David Lynch, infused since
their reading birth —

the tension of the concrete v the dramatic: let’s
stop the road & have a play

red & white ‘Long live the new eyes..!’ bread,
potatoes ‘into’.

the post-lyric, the broken flow

B.C.A.O.

...language is...writers are

...

is it red — though

the poetry ‘lover’

the mixture of ic & the aic

the “welcome” ‘element’s’ nest

i wonder what words evoke

but the distance

?

, , , , , ung ung , , , ;

un — perfect spanish, much translation?

assertion over ode

if it’s personal enough

the bits that were wanted, & only

a space that can scream prose

a story & a thought

tunnels after maiden

what do they want

to the pillow

like a bone in an armchair

look to the sides of your surprise

red logic

am i

little elegy or

breezy philosophy

reading v bleeding

stronger than fullstops

the desire to reformulate

shattering all reading glasses ...

a hull, refusenik?

/ , /

can sexton be free

words as pictures

beckettian memory

o monologues

thanks more words!

rolling stones somewhere

the lack of superstition

building ...

inject —

(you want to)

hmm hmm hmm

whys there, division

happyunness

crockery

currency, layers

moving up (on)

necessary assumption

what are they here for

this idea

i be 4’11”

the uncomplacent

the practically timeless

hey?

pain creates formality, like late abba

it doesnt

you have

is it

there is one about an unknown man, what are they? what can the
world think? language supports? let them know about —

that cant be... so easily, each hue, the drama(s) (there’s a reason); old
but must be written, bombs or no jets, (they fuck it up, the mums & dads?),
unlikely emphasis; hitchcock-existential; because thats whats reading! (not
an object, a constitiution); the circuit ... merry-go-round: what
colour my horse? what, etc... ‘while I, sitting in the long
grass can like a / foetus, uniquely situated.’ (‘Mischief Birds’), can
i just run this by, the sound of an epic, joke, for young
europeans, sorry no turtles, talking to the writing, dear poem ...

back

[the toad car haha]

dont tell me ive gone too far, blancmange, living on the ceiling

(dont) kneel to the new

(‘eat it, just eat it’) (WAY!)

a normal swelling

without comparison

fade to ribbon

eyes out


Bio: Michael Farrell is the Australian editor of Slope (http://www.slope.org). His critical writing can be read in issues 5,10 and 14; also in Cordite 8 & 9 (http://www.cordite.org.au), Jacket 12 (http://jacketmagazine.com) and La Petite Zine #8 (http://www.lapetitezine.org). He lives in Melbourne.

To obtain copies of Bestseller please contact elizabethallen@start.com.au, margie_cronin@hotmail.com or Vagabond Press at PO Box 80, Newtown NSW 2042, Australia.


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