Monday, 11 October 2021

Anthology - Infinity Land Press - 01/ 10/ 2021



Stephen Barber - Philip Best - Martin Bladh - Michael Carter - Dennis Cooper - Paul Curran - Zac Farley - Brad Feuerhelm - Steve Finbow - Devin Horan - Marc Hulson - New Juche - Shane Levene - Michael Mc Aloran - Hector Meinhof - Jeremy Reed - Michael Salerno - Jack Sargeant - Gary J. Shipley - Jukka Siikala - S. M. H - Audrey Szasz - - Eugene Thacker - Karolina Urbaniak

Hardbound, 312 pages, 148 x 210mm  

ISBN: 978-1-8382803-2-1

Edited by Steve Finbow

You can get it here


Monday, 26 July 2021

'Newer Louche', by Aad de Gids & Michael Mc Aloran, now available from Oneiros Books

"this book sits on top of a hill, looking around. it has no pretentions nor expectations. it is a duowriting booque, again, so that quadruples something. what is in the book is derailment, distortion, dadaism, postpostism, neowriting when not lamenting but, heralding there is nothing more left. without postneo trippunk endjazz however we're going NOT. there is noise. in the book is encapsulted in language what escapes language. the visuals comprise what escapes on all sides. every other writing with more positivist aims is bullshit. the book is a kind of neodebris, to use in the future. on satellite IX, brains totally fried hearts shredded to pieces. life is gone through with speed 240 or 340."

It is available via Oneiros Books


Thursday, 17 June 2021

Artwork from 'Obsidian Flowers'/ (selected 2010 - 2020)/ Oneiros Books

Artwork from "obsidian flowers/ (selected work 2010 - 2020)/ Oneiros Books, available here

(best viewed in full screen)


Saturday, 12 June 2021

'Obsidian Flowers'/ (selected writings/ 2010 - 2020) published by Oneiros Books


"obsidian flowers/ selected writing/ 2010 - 2020)", which includes an introduction by Dr. Arthur Broomfield, is available here from Oneiros Books

Thursday, 3 June 2021

A short review of 'The Zero Eye', published 2014 by Oneiros Books

 "If Mc Aloran's antipoetry today functions as a virtual hadron collider wherein words relentlessly rush against each other in a blind escape from the gravity of intentional meaning, this 2014 publication seems, by contrast, somewhat more pregnant with rarefied though recognizable emotions, at least by virtue of the relatively shorter lines. Here, Mc Aloran still appeared caught between the ecstatic agoraphobia of a Bataillean sky and the dim claustrophobia of a Beckettian cellar; nevertheless, the poet's trajectory always veered toward the posthuman spacelessness in which he now clearly operates. This book, however, contains such indelible phrases evocative of a perpetually endangered sensibility that it is worth a few late night readings. "Shave the air with violet", "vortices that grace the skull's interior" and "stratosphere of bled": honorable mentions from the first three poems..."

The book itself is available from Amazon, here

Monday, 17 May 2021

Wednesday, 5 May 2021

'paralysis gestures', (Oneiros Books), reviewed by RJ Dent


Michael McAloran’s paralysis gestures could be a book of lyrics by David Bowie; it could be a cut-up novel based on texts by William S. Burroughs and/or by Samuel Beckett. ‘… take up thy bones & rot…’ says the novel’s narrator, in the midst of a series of urgent missives from the future to an often inattentive present. paralysis gestures, in its form, in its content, and in its minimalist style, is a novel of mordant epigrams. ‘…failure in suicide is also one of the greatest of shames…’ says the Shakespeare-parodying narrator on page 40. The pages of paralysis gestures are filled with prayers for the living or curses for the dead, and often both simultaneously. And those words, which could have been taken directly from Scott Walker’s great unwritten novel, also tell us a great deal about Michael McAloran’s ongoing project with language, and how he has to mute the multiple meanings of words in order to extract one potent singular meaning. It’s a risky experiment, but in paralysis gestures, the experiment works and the language lives. And dies. And is resurrected. Reading Michael McAloran’s paralysis gestures is a painful, but cathartic experience. It is the perfect twenty-first century novel. The last words of this review are, perhaps fittingly, by the author of paralysis gestures: ‘…dead zones no not a…nothing ever of…no not on…nothing next to follow…burns all the while in citrus flame…paralysis gestures &…breakage of what matter…’

"paralysis gestures" is available via Oneiros Books

Friday, 23 April 2021

'paralysis gestures' -- Oneiros Books 04/'21


"Michael Mc Aloran's words are a miserable requiescats of the flesh, creating a gravitational laceration in the dark. The betrayed open system of flesh ridicules the erosion of the soul and just keeps cursing the twist of gravity." (
Kenji Siratori
Hard covers.
Printed on black glossy paper.
You can buy it here:

Thursday, 22 April 2021

Wednesday, 7 April 2021

Excerpts from 'TRIAD', published by Oneiros Books...


…in-stricken of/ from out of/ through (the) dead light breath broken valves of night nowhere left to follow(s)/ onwardly dissipated silenced as closure eye redempt of none/ a bitter sting a foreign lapse space-lack devour/ else what/ of some besiege scuttling of dead ice-blind absence/ shadowy nocturne/ frozen azure given to expire/ it-bitten cold weight settling in (the) warped bones (the) nothing of/ sensed of/ electrical vibrate given to flourish in severed collage of breath’s restless to become or other than/ (it must lest it commence)/ sharp stung eye lie/ bitter some aftertaste eviscerated lack of tearing limb from limbs from foreign else/ non-speech resolve premise sudden to expire scattered teeth blossoming into nothing ever other than/ skulled lest of stone ache fractures silences of/ shadow of all/ breath unto yet or of or in until/ in-stricken of blind weight/ traceless as/ in depth to end/ of (the) exhale of null/ (the) suffocate of all throughout/ echo/ echoing out…


abject design in a collision of subtle membrane/ skinned one thousand dreams sarcophagus of light breaking forth into open visceral nights/ long echo-desire/ here there or hereafter/ some door to close (the) room to/ follow endless/ an unmarked grave of silences given to taste severed stricken a-breathe spoke stone division endless ever as if to detrace/ trace/ retrace following on from gathered onward/ eye lights it is un-skied to hilt drop sheen reflect non-speech vocal as collapse stillness to gather in parched throat/ blood to taste gathering in (the) infant bones and sacral knowledge of scattered dead flies/ perhaps seeds to bleed unto having bled escapade eye of blood fragment all traced from nucleus given to shadowing/ it yet it is bitter yet a whipped canine’s tears satiate breathing no more than phlegm spat in the face of desire’s shadowing occluded simulacrum/ terse between one shadow/ not a trace nor given unto/ as if to… 


eye-skies with (the) little/ shod black stung-lapse of/ in/ ever of/ collapse in-dread forage null till bone shatter bruised bloody fleshed veranda give or taken silenced/ absence of/ till colour-claim effortlessly designed desire for (the) one thing seeking vengeance tones/ lock-trace/ a caress/ sheared skull blessed a relapse nothing given nor taken it/ out-stretched wings a kiss of cold sands where no sun is birthed/ funereal tide/ dead what once/ fades out once more in paradigm of shit/ dread lock once forgotte (the) broken body of signature/ slashed wrists here now a sanguine trace recollects/ (in night to trust)/ onwardly says (the) naught/ din of cold closure a doorway dragged from listless tidal as/ oxygenate of  nothing ever some lapse or another’s claim/ breeds pageantry silences working till hollow tint a painted trace/ outro/ (steps once diameter ever no motion beyond)/ peeling final from stricken blood/ ice in (the) veins/ eye spied…


 ...from further step’s disintegrate/ unsung shod black ilk blood collectively divined in emblems realms of/ what if what done was never of it-spoke/ no not once/ design clad purpose shattered given unto final outstretched melts away beneath sun’s absent light of absence ever/ fury weight a spliced eye tributary in colourless appeal as of waxen/ walls shed stung flux lack ever-din what circus dreamt of given unto expire/ scattered words/ here or of another/ bone shatters (the) torn lapse opening out word-lie/ outwardly all disregard final as all null having/ stitched stitching apart (the) wound foreign collision bethement obscure runs (the) machine scuttling for shadows deft as ice as forgotten of/ not a from outset’s promise culling (the) dead wastage of tide through flesh spurious to outcry/ where what if/ (the) cracked skull leaking promise calling (the) wilted blood petals home/ exhalation dredged from naught unto/ ever unto/ outspoken/ unto silenced/ all…


...nowhere is to be of this in this of nothing ever merely naught counts it out shadow upon where from what matter all traces have erase denounce cast off useless detritus collision with no not on a spillage of null where night is ever-lack lack motion of forgiven trace without form broken emblems sieve of purpose what collect as of a faggot of bound limbs skinned of purpose where of not on no nothing of through breach it said all done non-speech non-claim echo echo broke absurd clamour of din light burn into where whisper claims where depth devours yet depth what depth colour to claim some seek of purpose a crack of sky alone cataract of nothing next to have nothing of in reveal of sudden as if to expire it is not going anywhere other than it ever of in of where of in ever if what if or ever none what in of ever before a butcher blade cold chase of slaughter night of long knives as if to say that broken as in which no not of ever of unto having commence yet nowhere ever on what spoken said without lack stillness dread of come day neither night of savior promise of reflect upon having been nowhere in nothing on no never collapse into where of taken from having been in paralysis where on is none or no traceless as have if as of no not a where walls disintegrate transparency of all in recollect of faint trace spill it out of it out nothing ever of...


...on it laughter unto nowhere be unto nowhere have of been unto where of in now then what for after-long forgotten cold shadow neither left nor right merely fall asunder stray ask asks of it collapse into thy dread a dream a fragment as if to momentary of relapse sudden as if to expire drag of none & asp denounce till take of nothing for sustenance breath lapse weight vapor tone stray astray choke upon word/s unform where prayer for broke speech clamor of rat throughout a given onslaught of terse wind what a scent of blood stricken head of vast of miniscule breathless denounce collision depth hard cold shoulder of nowhere on a-lapse till vacuous expel through erasure of knock from frozen blood of no whereof to serve in hyenic pelt a nestle of bone to sickness have of some have-not slowly to break throughout tread back-step in yet nothing ever of as if to once dry eyes there or other of nothing on in none of fragment insert nowhere on throughout where only if in progress is to demise through blood sick light echo drain where once was of stricken from disease of what what dis-ease till lapse unto murmurs from dead silences lack & desire where shadow breathes it lung into agape open up of wound agaze into as if to ever of in foreign fragment of scattered through of once of only of never of forgotten of in where what of some ever of as merely if...




...bound blackened meat of some effortless fragrant of whereof dusted realms coat some expose smear by design of which whereof strip of what of echoflesh nothing ever scatters dawn light across what of what wishful nocturne to become impenetrable night all...



...agape choke upon stone tongue close of eye as if to have ever null & vacant observe shadow of breath cull of dead what what opulent shit in veins flung unto canine jaws (sicken) unto breath what speech what echo as if to spill it all out knock of some thrice design nectar laughter teasement of reek a corridor of none what of through ever closure of seclusion stasis & if in which taken from none closure of wound seared shut nowhere on into nothing ever in yet exile of forgotten forgets it ever-stitch what claim/ until...



...clears throat what echo-still of breach forgotten a silence of nullity tear of lack from limb lack expel what nothing having ever whereof colour claim as if to have of ever-in solace of devour colour tidal noose bite deep come collide with depth no answer have of given to stretch eaten of till bones exposed nothing of some dusk foreign lapse of view taken from where cast upon eye lapse into from out of sudden to expire recede into where none of some struck out blood to taste a reek of atrophic cheer drag out where sky of night bear down upon eye recall have or have not ever-shadow of cold dead teeth in laughter echo adrift of spastic abort of spastic spasm whole as if to where nowhere breathe upon given to gift what further of no not some on where nothing in of which is some dreaming else of in-dream cut short where sinew taste waste attrition fall to none what parry to aside nothing said have of ever if through which cold depth no nowhere of in on it was said scatter of poison seeds & desolate no nothing of having if in through which foreign storm of occlude(ed) piss upon flowerate knowing nothing of where pageant grows it does not refutes till breakage of never once all drought fallen from as if to say that what once was once will never rupture callous in of of weight stretching out some vellum tide a bitter terse a lock a wither of hand spillage of some unquantifiable liquid neither blood nor cum nor as on into whereof forgotten in an instance breath where fingers ache & warp throughout skies upheaval of mesh strip skin headless abort closure of some nothing ever no not a...     


…asks of…ever of the bind-breathe…fallen unto measure of…spat out the wings of long forgotten else…night for blood & a…cold depth of denuded all stepped alone…breakage nullity of herein where not of a in or of nor nothing be…strip solace…broken bones scattered across rotting floorboards…dense will end rising up to splendour eye’s disregard…a sentence a frenzy of…turns into cannot other than where to have neither of the held close the door…bathes in the eclipse of meat…hyenic/ the blood to flow…effortlessly consumed …where traceless of what in of/of the desire for the garotte…spoken of through silence break/ shrift…the shattered teeth of exodus & the laughter of echoing in the core of breath…reflexive…taint without longing breakage colours of all spoken for…silence as if there were any other than where to sever/no/a ghost-limb fallen silt…passes through one surface unto another…till trace forgotten never of the spe/cial bound by walls constructed of…glass works & the snare of teeth breakage valve of purposeless driven by the desire to final…laconic…no nothing of that yet of the disappearance of yes what matter as if to choke unspoken…dead as…rip of flesh in an outcry of blood & meat…the vocal of it sounds out from out of severance…nothing of the matter a taste of for it forgotten erasure pageant depth kisses of the forgotten…the null light permeate…there go the fingers useless implements…flung to the dogs of…as all that be was never once…neither from the outset nor the outset other than…plumes of…reflections of…nothing…of…




…cold reflect of blood shed where to…genuflect of some final reaching for…slap to the face begins again…having forgotten cannot…it-surface of blind light reflect of null that cannot…broken glass rupture through which it can or only through the eyes of the silence broken only by…torn to shreds in bask of territory…spitting out the shit force-fed it can only…never yet as…tension light arrested flesh the body broken entity of nothing ever in where trace of languish collapses into foreign…taste waste attrition…bone dice a winter pageant…the roots reach for the nothingness as if else were to be of any…spit tongue lapse…dense accord…there is laughter yet no more…begins again false promise remembers…rat reflect…rat from out of which…keener the eye of some ballast a frozen fragment …dense what will in salve no nothing of the blood…froze light breathe…black casket room of nowhere out as if there ever could have been…spills of entrails from eviscerate a soundless speech neither the speechless nor the following after…hyenic the blood continue to flow until…bled out…nothing of it black polka soundless penetration vibrate of…sees eye see…not a…nothing for this… nothing of that or…ever of the taste of shit in the mouth in the reek of fumes arising from the virgin sands freshly placed before in any given hourglass…as kicked from once of one throughout kicked from one until what of in ever till…as the bleed of which is ever the closure wound non-viable…all as sung through a talus closure of the bloom of razor discharge cascade of breathless speech of the words that never could… 



…zero breath of the hands outstretched reaching for the…rat is the sequence pulse it does not sleep…devours the film of else upon the eye given that the…scab form depth of surface skin & the stitch-mark colouring…it done desire of the space between the shadow & the…null vacancy of final ever throughout as passage until no nothing of the desire what hence cleft of the silence within silence reverberate…sunk slow what if…breaking upon where bones flow sanguine absently caressed by the lapse of ever…till dense all song…night what of it…tears away the skin of promise to writhe in the shit of being of it…in it…mark what trace till obsolete…annihilate of all but never of in through which of the bereft silence never having uttered once than ever of till foreign…till closure no…the flesh warps in upon itself cold shadow longing spread across the body vocal…night is what shadow left behind for nothing of as if to see it…till cast aside in the absent region of where nothing of…dig deep…stone harvest…lest to flow as on it into which a broken jaw a filigree a word a series of cannot without any measure…lack & all throughout where the pit of which is the solace of the fucked from the outset promised nothing other than no design was ever…the broken body vocal smashed to shrapnel as before merely to reclaim that which it cannot merely broken the vocal of what not listless as before…yet in of which in spasm lock it-lung closure the tomb of long forgotten…as on with uttering none…sound cascading into… crack a bone unsung…it sayeth of…terse devour of the collapse as sheet metal snaps down to taste as the silence bites silently down upon/upon where trace non-light is the unforgotten…spits it out…




"TRIAD" is available via Oneiros Books

Sunday, 28 March 2021

'Nothing Ever', (Oneiros Books), reviewed by Christopher Barnes



(Christopher Barnes reviews 'Nothing Ever' by Michael McAloran. Oneiros Books 2021.)

     'Nothing Ever' is in a form neither fully prose nor is it conventional poetry. The language is heightened, intense; the composition dramatic and organic to its subject matter. Violence is explored at the psyche level, a place where literature can delve, but where factual writing merely skims. The tenor is experimental, obsessive, and chaotic, which suits the chosen theme perfectly - this chaos is artfully constructed. The situation is enacted by the words with a careful understanding of how English works.

     In this work, no section is what we would read as a beginning. The use of ellipsis shows we have come into the experiences in medias res

                 '...of waste headless attrition through a distance of scars'.

'Headless' and 'distance of scars' suggests the human body is more than a body, a temporal spiritual space, dead and alive. Violence within the image is stark, a way to know the Self. The relationship between perpetrator and victim is unstable; external and internal seem to synthesise.

     Further on we have:

          'mockery tint of absolute to claim'

which shows we are not in a dream or nightmare, real psychological impulses and motivations play out. Assumed 'mockery' justifies actions. Possession results from this, which causes us to doubt the authorial voice's agenda; within the telling, the woken ego seeks to influence us.

     Fetishistic and otherworldly matters come with the phrase:

          'caress some violent scarlet rosary'.

A rosary is for counting - here, it weighs on the 'scars' and dead or dying bodies that may be counted too. Counting is also time-based, it adds to the tension - moments between one violent act and another. The colour 'scarlet' is loaded with the implication of blood-splatter as a complex image, as well as the colour that often represents sin. 'Caress' as erotic, even loving, is well-chosen. An object is caressed, humans are not regarded as more important than the rosary - indeed they too are objectified.

     Music is also ritualistic and esoteric:

                 '...dense weight of nocturne-in in semblance',

the chords of existence are grand, profound. Imagined notes are mysterious, connecting spaces in darkness - they envelop. The 'in' repetitions are like a stutter, a visual demonstration correlating to awe. In:

          '- torn from echo's glint'

the sound word 'echo's' takes us into the subliminal, an overwhelming space. It hints at the void, where one can lose oneself.

     In traditional grammar, 'of' denotes belonging to the word after it. Surprisingly, 'of' sometimes gives the sensation of wanting to move away from something:

          ' - yet what is of of some eye to trace the surface tension of frozen recollect'.

     Touch in darkness, real or figurative, is a way to merge or connect body to universe:

          'blind bones to search throughout a braille sky'.

To touch is to comprehend.

     As with de Sade, violence becomes a bore, excitement is blunted by the mind's exhaustion and inability to feel:

          'division bathes in listless ennui'.

  Where it may have made one whole with the victim and the spiritual world, it ultimately divides and disappoints.  Later on we have:

          'light shone black'

which is depressive, there is no joy in this violence.

     Using archaisms such as 'biteth' and 'cometh' do more than just evoke the Bible, which as a screed has violence aplenty. These words indicate that aggressive deeds and feelings we may have about them go back to the furthest history. The same contexts are therefore everlasting. This writing relates to a whole time of human violence, the implication being that this is our nature.

     We also note sexualised violence:

             'down upon where the phallic victory seamless to caress a fragrancy of delirium'

indicates male power reached after orgasm:

          'some spent simulacrum'.

And more subtly:

          'then nothing of it out of distance what else to bear/bare/once'

intimates the external representation apropos the victim combining with  the perpetrator’s understanding of what has been done.

     There are lots of fascinating images in these non-sentences:

          'emptily enshroud in earthen clarity of blood'

offers us an ambiguous, multi-layered vision, where earth itself is both an urn for the dead and a jug for intoxicating blood wine.

     Punning dark humour reminds us there is a persona behind the script:

          'where closure fist is broken psalms'.

It is quite a jolt to go from the esoteric to the human mind/ego, we feel the personality as real.

          'To fall first footstep'


          'to go is first flog'

conjures New Year, renewal, but without hope or change; the future will be as the past. Time is a trap with no exit.

     Surrealism blends effortlessly into the linguistic melee:

          'cloud across pupils long absent of skyline'.

Inner and outer worlds reflect each other, they are not disconnectable. Within this phrase, in its literariness, we are conscious that this is authorship, the act of writing is in a tradition. On a different page we have:

          'trace of cloud across white wall(ed)'.

We are not being addressed by a voice, we are perusing a text. The two ways of reading and thinking in 'wall' and 'wall(ed)' are concretely expressed as a prompt, which helps the reader distance the violence, making it easier to digest. 

     Repetition in images builds up their power:

          'composure stillness of eye'


          'shattered concrete ocular to rove'

for instance, bring us back to a very visual and decidedly human engrossment. The lines stalk our awareness that the violent events are watched. These pictures, once seen, are imprinted on the retina, which cannot be cleaned.

     Fusing surfaces can be both fuzzy and visceral:

          'teeth skinned of purpose'

is a phrase economic and multifaceted with a below ground logic when considered as what Pound called a vortex. The idiom itself can be visionary.

     Technical aspects are fully realised. Mangling syntactical norms sparks an energy, pulling the reader along, especially in spaces between action and inaction. This is an important book not least for its example of how to use wordstock as its own vehicle, as opposed to using narrative merely to convey something separate from the symbols used.

Though the pretext of this work might not be popular, I highly recommend close reading.

Nothing Ever is available via Oneiros Books

Friday, 19 March 2021

'Nothing Ever', (Oneiros Books), reviewed by Zuzana Susu


MMA aad gid
revieweuse luxe panthère (also haute) on this unbelievable out of order new kind of book of MMA Michael McAloran.

is this a difficult book ? well hell yeah, but if we want to read it we will. it sets all kind of parameters on its head. if you sense you're taking part of a whole new thing qua litterature, it is just exhillirating. I have always searched for this 'antiArt' and always succeeded to find it. you have to be prepared to set aside all conventionalisms. and that I was, we were (with Bas), already in the 70s. we read the strangest books, saw the strangest [non]paintings, listened to unbearable antiMusic. we even participated in antiTheater. then yes you are quite prepared to take notice of Michaels newest book: 'Nothing Ever'.

kind of a sedate title. the book is a rupture with all that came before. he doesn't like to hear it but Michael is simply the best Irish poet. and Ireland of course already has such prevalent reputation. it is as with the perfume 'Red. Giorgio Beverly Hills'. 'Wearing Red, everything else pales'. having read 'nothing ever', there is a before and after. we agreed to work against the lesbotechno revieweuses barflies. torpedotitted, they think to rule the scene. but we give them no space, Michael not with his poetry, me not with my leopard shawled, rouge-noir lacquered acryl nails. fuck the litterary establishment. well ready with the intro, lets dynamite.

"a desire for final absence colourless skyline of all sense devour -- mockery tint of absolute to claim where division is but once as scald of flesh is to taste strip night collective repetition absence -- dense weight of nocturne-in in semblance reduct fathomless collage in a collapse of origin".

the fog of text from MMA (Michael McAloran). if meaning appears it is at the same time gnawed into fragmented proportions again with the plethora of the words that, fluidified, follow. if Michael chose Beckett to cite an adage from (with 'gnawing' in it) it is because we all need to do our patricide matricide. 'meaning' is 'sense' and we see what happens where representationism (what texts often achieve) absolve repetitive gestes. Michael finds energy in the unlikeliest of places. " aglow in dead matter to writhe within in colourless speech of static execution ". "it sings along beneath a-breathe of agues buried in a kiln of pulse bulb ideation ". here I go in a frenzy of associationisms. 'pulse bulb ideation', so there is here a dimension still of something 'positive' or rather 'affirmative'. then the word hidden inside: 'agues' = a shube of Malaria; we can also add 'ages', 'aches', not all so dissimular. the accent aigue, é. 'The acute accent marks the stressed vowel of a word in several languages.' swarm of stressors. this is also a kiln, a cauldron of heat, of energy. plus this is rather exactly described. "collision absence - it is neither sun nor some entity of bloodless fathom all lock & bathe white light neither dark merely static in all centre collect ". the aforementioned affirmation is nothing but a lightblip: "all what said ever of some barren trace pissing freely upon all that once ever was to seed in some banquet some solace in an amplificatory roar of virulent psychosis". in this text of Michael we find the bare hydraulics of 'process', 'machine', 'obsidian tidality' and hacked emotions. " hollow blood to erupt throughout -- spasm vicious slash across the gait of in-dreaming ever of wreckless compress of skeletal oxide ".
these texts may resist against reading. then it is rather an 'experiencing'. the book is sliced with intruigueing illustrations by David M. Mitchell, who is also instrumental in the publishmachine that facilitated this book: 'Oneiros Books' in collaboration with the 'Black Worm Media Kollektive'. his illustrations have a kind of resemblance with some of Bas's. maybe thats why I find them rather acute and outerdimensionally. then now comes the moment to cite extensively out of Michaels book, otherwise you'll never sense the change his book really incorporates. "broken it opulent / else as of which reclamation of unto in lack of distill rip to shreds to shadow lock of night irredempt colourless thankless space a blockade yet no nothing of that what as if to whisper traces no speech no all forgotten mimicry of some vague distillate no no longer wishes to a foreign absence of sound lack in all its cannot lapse light leapt closure no/ of wound bled out of tidal weight collapse deft breath devour no hope in hell grace as if to ever no nothing there a hand that clasps eternal as one is not second to go is first flog of some lack what over then of some accord all spoke once more there goes it tidal no yet given to speech reclaim in laughter of some hung light far afar that never of where once to be or other than as of have of it yet what yet of waste ground where now in closure of what given to beckon of as if to speak all days done for haven no what of till colourless maxity stray says no yet of what origin bulk of which weighted what of till tidal as forgotten nothing of see another there appear to be hours without wonder a drift of cloud across pupils long absent of skyline all what sung as if to know barrage of silence bone deep sever an absent frenzy of night & all that it obliterate ". this is language hunting itself. we can establish that it is nice to read the words as the words and throw all expectancies overboard. just also think of those last two years and what vomit and inpredictability, endless streaming of journalist chiffres and halfconclusive texts were spoken to us only: I wasn't listening. if there is similarity between those contoured morphologies there is, yet in Michaels case it is also critique and not only restrictively so. think of the laTrumpes' blahblah. than MMA's book is rather critique and has a metaposition, poetry, prose and philosophy and....DADA. here we also find the malcited Derrida, but then with his malcitation as true: "Critics of Derrida have been often accused of having mistranslated the phrase in French to suggest he had written "Il n'y a rien en dehors du texte" ("There is nothing outside the text") and of having widely disseminated this translation to make it appear that Derrida is suggesting that nothing exists but words. Derrida once explained that this assertion "which for some has become a sort of slogan, in general so badly understood, of deconstruction [...] means nothing else: there is nothing outside context. In this form, which says exactly the same thing, the formula would doubtless have been less shocking." ." I hold steadfast to the 'misinterpretation' because I feel that we: the 'post-post writers, the antiPoets, the EndtimeWriters, celebrate this Wortsalat. it is the same as with Beuys as he says: 'Jetzt brechen wir den Scheiße ab'. so we do not upheld anything. that there is the paradox of needing a book to express just that, that is something already Adorno and Horkheimer tackled in the Critical Theory. Index Falsii, the totality is wrong. 'the big works of art are waiting', after Auschwitz. so it is no surprise to find in Michaels book concepts of Place, Time, Space, Absence, Repetition, Sense, Tidality and with great majority these concepts are now GONE. "where to recoil breakage no what term of dislodge collapse shudder shatter wordless soundless broke never answer tidal atrophic lapse what long & all what sung from derelict absolve lack of intake desire for once that never other ever than obsolete devour colourless in laughter of which a collision bathe in black waters closed shores where flesh abides all fallen forage no all forage fallen nothing to remark upon lapse all to having in dread of hour upspoke forgotten of in of else some distance none no there what of once never as what yes or no cyclic as solace ever in what else of which given to recoil where once was haven of disclosure never of yet of where once all spoken no yet yes as bleed it all from severance severed to bone ". then detritus, debris, accretion of coral and marine nanoplastics, are more described than (not) nessecarily supportive of antroposcenic hyperurbanities. we can thus find 'unforgotten forgotten' right next to each other, as such excluding false positivisms. "tasteless as before expound of bleak white waters to caress where to unto unforgotten forgotten ever from emblems stretch of from beyond of where sudden to downpour once distance forage in an elect of skull sudden to avaricious nothing of which what matter as if to convey it where ever so spoken was of once as if to burn in black light worship of as if to travail see dim from which in ever less what as flux of breakage point skull shadow shale of lapse unto as if to graven nothing of until devour by". not in, not out, not alive, not dead, death unnamed but a wrap. then the syntax isn't also safe: "till obsolete haven of null void misspelled from outset lapse ". Michael also said that they left 'glued words' in. I love it all. here still a meta remark: "as all flesh subside a birth a step a vantage point ", this is kind of programmatic observation of putrefaction yet also a choreography of seriegraphic cartographies. fading as affirmation. we're now also not reading anymore, from Plaza to Plaza, the reader = the writer. we meet an exoticism as intimism: "…was the taxed parameter of skyline breath of once intake exhale in foreign drag of corpsal light through the vacancy of ever known forgotten in an instanced breath haven of what which spill of the drag what purpose final as composure stillness of eye & out of which what fallen shards of frozen meat in cavalcade redress wild edge of night to embrace as abattoir silences ". an energy as entropy. I see that I have to clip my haute review somewhat, otherwise we have another thick booque. essentialism as it now is circumvirates Michael thusly: "the else of essence spectral". as if aside Michael defines litterature, linguistics, language as mass. Michael writes in a pulsative, eruptive, an inintermittent stream of language unbewillst and poetically threatening to throw up meaning through holes in the textist waves. an endless open stream of words, here more adhering to eventual quasi-meaning while there a hauntingly icing against any pop-up boutique of meaning. (meaning was always overrated.) now we see in his language nanoparticles, molecularisation, multiplicities, dissipation of corpuscules. "silenced nocturnes of corpsal devour what edge from which to follow thankless chance : insectal crawl through fleshed night capacity : lack to : haven spell : danse of one thousand fragments unlimited expansion whereof in kaleidoscope is to shatter of in pupil gaze where sound dies down : fingers that reach for nothing of given to wilt to recoil to dissipate in bodily time : excess of bloom where to breathe of is the lightless passage through one sequence never of before ". here we have the veritable tanatography, teratomatosis. "this is nothing" Michael deadpans. "a useless whore of unspeak of soundless restless blind a dance of whispering winds caress the skyline’s promise no it remains unseen untenable ". 'whore' here not misogynistic, a torchname radiation, all the previous and thereafter; "of unspeak". it is precisely articulating her possibilty of many speeches, of speach and spurs. I will end my review (while there was a lot more in it,because I wanted to cite at least one page of Michaels staccato onslaught of language, words, lexicology, the instance of the reader, the attick corner of the writer). "elected to this a broke stone tragedy of cards cast no await of dawning into to become of some never having been or otherwise decide it otherwise decision nullfeeding frenzy of hyenic final laughter as if to mock what tread is of nor other claim or no what from/ why from distance no rooted to given to speech declaration a bloodless night collapsed into of which until tidal opulence of blood come to shores of till dread of which haven lack all shadowing devour colours of which of absence tidal oceanic spillage of breath where to embalm is to nothing ever waste wounds terse where to closure space lack of definition one singular edge to caress a razor silence all at once unsaid to drift whereby cold drift of broken amulets seeketh from as night impenetrable bite downcrest to fall upon where to shiv is to breathe spectral as given in shadow timescale of desert clime absent ofsky no linger taste of ashen promise where of in now of which flat-lined eyes that seek to utterance collect lime quarry of searing membrane a shattered glass pane of transparency inept as ever once of other than cold weight to lack other of through which dispel seeketh solace drought of echoings traces burnt to dust…as if to/ all but once never favour of adrift skull compress a sequence of riddled flesh meat to tear throughout…cauterize of once cannot neither of in final as seeks semblance to taste nothing of being-in emptily drag of pelt across absent landscape stone clad as burning of where flesh to be is sickness of where to nullity bankrupt veins a/ motion lack of absenteeism where to having birthed once in absentia in reek of blood’s tidecalls cards they are spent as rotting..."
"orchids adrift in some foreign breeze settling in distance obsolete breathed to un-sky trace of lock-a adrift speechless as of once ever of some shadowing collects in din refusal echo to trace reverberate of skyline sieved by fingers cold dust of voidal exigency of bereft light end till none lapse of throughout a shimmering of halo tread of limb warped colourings bite in darkness overture vault to breathe of effortless to crush in thin lights subtlety of blade to caress in fleshed abandon eye see eye sees once or other a scattering of embers in shit breathless of to burn of it a knock a silhouettesilence bleeding out where once was of sustained as of in which till of what of in or less than as nothing of obscure distance no longing for to burn as of blackened meat dissolve spasm tread throughout gild of absent razor slash eviscerate to the hilt of ash an evacuation of piss of shit-stained dusty sheets blood to lack as of some colourization as limbs once foraged die down in listless slaughter mock of stitch of some reclamation taste of desire in haven of where to flesh is to absolve is to breakage subtle cold light as if in which of uttered blank space a point of light to fade as a pupil’s invertinter-spasm of line drawn white chalk through spacial lack of definition a mercury of shimmer bleed dredge of in nor of a gouge of mouth stretched before unknown clad in pelt of nothing ever rind of breath scarred without longing for to settled within of spoken unto where none of being is of else in dreamt of spoken of what shiv to trace throughout where to of abode blackened sun light absence of sky corrected if yes or of breath shredded of purpose other than through"
I have remarked this before, but we're near Linneaus, the Linnean 'listing' of all plants. if often the connecting words are gone we get a new sensorial KGB CIA MOSSAD texting module. it is inescapable. if Michael summarizes: "extract broken terse obsolete words prayers ". theology without theology. I'll have to leave it at that, not because cursing is Verboten but I shall not leave before I have given this lemmatum of absolute admiration and the testimony of Michaels substantial geniality

"Nothing Ever" is available via Oneiros Books

Anthology - Infinity Land Press - 01/ 10/ 2021

  CONTRIBUTORS ​ Stephen Barber - Philip Best - Martin Bladh - Michael Carter - Dennis Cooper - Paul Curran - Zac Farley - Brad Feuerhelm - ...