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Beneath Your Light, Above My Fury

another favourite

MB Blissett

My fur bristles

At the thought of you

My muscles swell

Beneath your light

My gums ache as new anatomy emerges

I am transformed by your beauty

Made ferocious by the alchemy

Capable of tearing you to pieces

With the gravity of my lust

Licking you all over in rasping, gentle strokes

Let me kiss the curse of thought

Away. Here in the earth

We roll around,

Cover one another in our filth

Play without shame or concern

For anything beyond kindling the bright, delicious fire

Of our want

Come at me, hold nothing back

In my transformation,

I am strong enough to handle you

Your emotions are a breeze on the water

To me, a turbulent ocean to

Others who battle without understanding them

No, here I rest

Beneath such light

I inhale your scent

Follow it through darkness

Into the deepest parts

Of you

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Kitchen Star

Poetry is something hidden and immediate.

MB Blissett

Kisses going off

Like fireworks in the sky

Inside

A model of restraint

Teased into brutality

My merciless fingers

Grazing against damp, tender

flesh

Your attention bones to the

Brushing touches

Dancing to call spirits

In your kitchen

Taste of good gin

On our lips

Here, you surrender

And won a state of perpetual grace

Softened and expanded

Like a bright, burning star.

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So You’ve Been Publicly Shamed by Jon Ronson

I should do more book reviews. It’s just I am always reading so consistently that I’m picking up another book before I can put down my feelings about the one I’ve finished. Still, I like Gaiman and will read anything he puts out.

MB Blissett

landscape-1427300266-mob

Synopsis:

‘It’s about the terror, isn’t it?’
‘The terror of what?’ I said.
‘The terror of being found out.’

For the past three years, Jon Ronson has travelled the world meeting recipients of high-profile public shamings. The shamed are people like us – people who, say, made a joke on social media that came out badly, or made a mistake at work. Once their transgression is revealed, collective outrage circles with the force of a hurricane and the next thing they know they’re being torn apart by an angry mob, jeered at, demonized, sometimes even fired from their job.

A great renaissance of public shaming is sweeping our land. Justice has been democratized. The silent majority are getting a voice. But what are we doing with our voice? We are mercilessly finding people’s faults. We are defining the boundaries of normality by ruining the lives of those outside it. We…

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Extracts From A Taxonomy of Clowns

I plan on doing a Florida Man story. It’s a meme and also provided one of the best moments of Atlanta in season 2. The idea tickled me and also because clowns unnerve people, so the idea was there, and the lack of structure was quite experimental for me but I think it came out ok.

MB Blissett

…There are schools of thought which maintain the excessive use of cosmetics fulfils a role similar to war paint but Houston and Dennis maintain the regular palate of aposematic colours is an evolutionary adaptation.

A primal intuition of threat is the lips are drawn back and teeth parted, in preparation to bite. Smiles are not performed in isolation, which is how they communicate friendliness and warmth. Clowns smile like politicians. It never reaches their eyes or it engulfs them whole.

Hobo Clowns are the most dangerous because they are always hungry.

Vampire Clowns have found social acceptance in the Quebecois burlesque community. Trudeau knows this presents issues but cannot speak out against them, for fear of being accused of discrimination.

Florida Man is a regional evolution of the Hobo clown, based on the climate and food sources. Although undeveloped amygdala are common in the clown clade, Florida Man has increased aggression…

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Recluse In White

Going to share some of my older stories which I like and talk a little about them.
I like this story, went through and made a few small changes, but being prolific means I often have to go back a while and find things I like.
This one is about the drive to create, and the obsessive qualities sometimes required to create work, let alone great work.

MB Blissett

crazy-writer

The reclusive author was something of a trope for me until I took on Agatha Reeve as a client. JD Salinger, Thomas Pynchon, Harper Lee and Elena Ferrante were the names that I knew but landing one as an actual client had been an uneasy blessing.

She enquired by letter. She sent her first book along with it, a romantic thriller called Control and I had grimaced at it before idly flipping the first page over and reading her work. It had a crisp, disciplined strut to it. The language was simple and trusted the reader to do the work of the book, sometimes approaching a poetic lilt in places. Underneath that though, seethed an engine of sex and violence which made the blood rise in my cheeks.

It was a new experience reading something  that sung to me as I read it.

She wrote back when I sent her…

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poetry, Uncategorized

but i’m telling you

there were twenty of them

in velour purple tracksuits

pristine fat sneakers

like hardback books bound

with obese laces

all stood together

waiting to get on

the ride

so i walk forwards

throw on a grin

into the spotlight i imagine

shines on me

heart racing like the rain

later that afternoon

and i walk in front of them

get on the bloody ride

and they all looked at me

with wide smiles

which never reached

their eyes

later, in a bunker,

they laid down

bitter dust of enough tablets

to usher them down

leaving the meat behind

going into space

as stardust

and i didn’t tell anyone

until now

but i’m telling you

 

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poetry, Uncategorized

reviewing a circus

the doughnuts tasted

and when i asked the

he just grunted

piebald velvet curtains

hang like a narcissist’s lower

and I found my

they still have a live

but the sound is

stalking the

and the smell crawls after

too much make up to trust on a

teeth trying to flee his

like a prison break

but you’ve paid for a

and now you sit and

gritting your teeth

appalled at how low your

were when you were a

and when you

you fight the urge to slap the pamphlet from their

but you smile and say no

i won’t be back again.

 

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