Veer About

Veer About 2010-2011 has been specifically designed as an online publication with fully clickable contents page, while also utilising the pdf format to embed video, audio and visual work, in addition to text.

Available as a free download from Intercapillary Space.

Edited by Adrian Clarke and William Rowe.

Featuring:

• Gilbert Adair
• Pansy Maurer-Alvarez
• Sean Bonney
• Elizabeth-Jane Burnett
• David Caddy
• John Cayley
• Wayne Clements
• Jennifer Pike Cobbing
• Becky Cremin
• Jimmy Cummins
• Allen Fisher
• Gregorio Fontén
• Steven Fowler
• Edmund Hardy
• Harry Gilonis
• Martin Gubbins
• James Harvey
• Rosa van Hensbergen
• Rob Holloway
• Keith Jebb
• Antony John
• Doug Jones
• Justin Katko
• Matthew Martin
• Steve McCaffery
• Aodán McCardle
• Karen McCormack
• Mendoza
• Rod Mengham
• David Miller
• Stephen Mooney
• Niamh O’Mahony
• Maggie O’Sullivan
• Ryan Ormonde
• Richard Owens
• Chris Paul
• Peter Philpott
• Frances Presley
• Nat Raha
• John Seed
• Gavin Selerie
• Phillip Terry
• Greg Thomas
• Scott Thurston
• Juha Virtanen
• Carol Watts
• Mike Weller
• Tom White
• Steve Willey
• Johan de Wit

Update on Thursday 24 February, 2011 by Openned

Corrected spelling of Rosa van Hensbergen.

Joke Book (extract) by Tom White

Let’s probe themes, demands tradition. Doesn’t poetry pass its imports into less languid commentaries? They stiffen on vision: Delia’s mum’s long parlour (bra is ample); dad classifies home as sick hell, all weekend in anger swears that ‘even if I frig her wet, flex her, say “my dear”, carelessly comb my hair, she remarks that “he sends all men the summer dance, he never wants to stay home for sex. Usually he feels coarse boys back on the station. He calls to them, ‘get your kit off, fall on it!’ Knobs on show, and such positions way past just a sigh! Pa’s a column in some sexy page.”’ Get a car. I’m going to show just whose son regrets the day these walls caused us to stray far from home. Yes, you all hiss and yell at tit all your gay rhetoric and you hope the next day she will get all the blame. A kid comes in to hear (‘move over my dear’) rumours abound. ‘Who’s carrying on?’ ‘But I swear..!’ ‘Consider killing your one connection: enter, lead her to a settee, offer smiles (“after you”); be a disease, lay fate so soon upon the bastard. Erase her, mask the pencil. Solace to you, day’s sin satisfied. An éclair? After decent kill, men stay hopelessly sexual danger prowling there. A cheque will donate income – see the amount? Do your best and watch for the money. 1890 begins it, alright? I become impatient and see hell’s empire proffer demons a symbol, it’s clear, to endless space with your corpse. Just be sure she fell. Bullets kill – start increasing harm.’ The cock is large: he knows it. He pastiches you others pouring tears and pours tea. The men may have passion but later they waste – see Melnick on top, defiant of male violence. See the key appraise the place, her skirt so near to her anus. Too hard. Dance the salsa and I tell you don’t stop at all, and on him sew the cigar’s song. Don’t laugh about a marvellous tableau of being done. Fast feet upon carpet meant only he murmured ‘key’, a house leading you teasing slaughter. Pterodactyl knee compound as gas set an outer force: tradition. Come sell one. He bit her lemon (big). If I can rig a wet dance… A long novel set on a supper table.

Click to read more ...