Lemon Hound 3.0

Arts, Letters, Archives, Arguments

Posts tagged "archive"
Lisa Robertson on John Clare

Lisa Robertson on John Clare

Emmonsail's Heath in Winter BY JOHN CLARE I love to see the old heath's withered brake Mingle its crimpled leaves with furze and ling, While the old heron from the lonely lake Starts slow and flaps his melancholy wing, And oddling crow in idle motions swing On the half rotten ashtree's topmost twig, Beside whose...
Lisa Robertson on Denise Riley

Lisa Robertson on Denise Riley

Here is a clear fragment broken off from the perennial drama of girlhood, the vastness and vibration of summer air all around it. The waves sound their regular metre through the lines. The girls are the girls who walk with suppleness and wit through Sappho's fragments, through Ovid's changes, at once mythically impersonal and lapidary,...

Synapse: Guillaume Morrissette

[soundcloud url="http://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/11402637" params="" width=" 100%" height="166" iframe="true" /] the last time I saw you I was so angry at the most unnegotiable parts of yourself that I thought “black hole lobbed around twice‟. my thoughts were distorted, this is how angry I was. it felt like I meant the anger and was afraid to lose...
Ken Babstock on Glyn Maxwell

Ken Babstock on Glyn Maxwell

PORTOBELLO by Glyn Maxwell When you were the one reading My palm, in the second hour of our one life, And I, sitting back for good and noticing white stuff Suddenly falling on Portobello and staying, You couldn't for all the books in the world have learned More than one watching us, Who buttered his...
Lisa Robertson on Dionne Brand

Lisa Robertson on Dionne Brand

In another place, not here, a woman might touch something between beauty and nowhere, back there and here, might pass hand over hand her own trembling life, but I have tried to imagine a sea not bleeding, a girl's glance full as a verse, a woman growing old and never crying to a radio hissing...
How Poems Work: Ken Babstock on David O'Meara

How Poems Work: Ken Babstock on David O’Meara

Field-Crossing by DAVID O'MEARA The clover's razed; the ground is autumn-hard. The land bristles in a ragged frame. I'm on the far end, watching weightless clouds hastened by wind, the day dark but huge with a muscled rustling. A hydro pole impales the midriff of the field — a world-tree ripe with announcements; a pivot staking...

Michael Nardone: On Colin Fulton

---- What are the phonemes within phenomena? What is their speak and how are they sounded? How does a phrase issue outward from event? What is the name of the pleasure that overcomes one when a string of words fastens itself to some unintended destination? How is it that a sentence takes hold? Colin Fulton's...

Michael Nardone: Some Versions of Furniture Music

Kenneth Goldsmith, on Satie: In the midst of an art opening at a Paris gallery in 1902, Ambient music was born. Erik Satie and his cronies, after begging everyone in the gallery to ignore them, broke out into what they called Furniture Music--that is, background music--music as wallpaper, music to be purposely not listened to....

A Conversation with Lisa Robertson

Michael Nardone: A lot of your work draws from an immediate environment, both landscape and peers. Thinking about where we are now—Open Space, an artist-run centre—and perhaps trying to locate our conversation in this place, can you speak about your involvement and collaborative work with your immediate community and involvement with artist- and writer-run centres...

A Conversation with Jeramy Dodds

from a public dialogue at Open Space, Victoria, 26 October 2010 NARDONE: Crabwise to the Hounds was a very particular book in that when it came out in the fall of 2008, it seemed to have an immediate impact. There was this unique voice throughout and a particular sense of poem-construction that felt at once...