After a shamefully long absinthe, my goodself is back with more poems, or as I prefer, angstograms. The eyte pieces herein date from the mid 1990’s – a time which was pretty tough for me…my mother had not long been converted into ashes, I was poverty-stricken and on top of all that I broke my right leg in a nightclub accident. During that period a bizarre parade of misfits and ne’er do-wells wandered through my life; transexuals, prostitutes, Jehovas Witnesses, dysfunktional trannies and maelovolent spirits to name but a phew. That period was documented in this small but imperfectly-formed collection called MAELSTROM.
Many hands were employed in this ceremony. Some drew the brain through the noftrils, by an instrument made for that purpofe. Others emptied the bowels and inteftines, by cutting a hole in the fide, with an Ethiopian ftone that was as fharp as a razor : after which the cavities were fill’d with perfumes and various odiferous drugs.
My thanks to the Right Honourable and Downright Jean Encoule of the Ministry of Punk for encouraging me to post these missives on the record-breaking, earth-shaking, tuna-flaking, thirst-slaking, sleep-awakening, risk-taking, history-making tmX #30.
M A E L S T R O M
Ben Browton (a.k.a. Seymour Bybuss) Sludgeness-On-Sea – tMx 30 – 06/07
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