Tuesday, April 23, 2019

National Poetry Month : Simon Brown


By Schoodic Pains



I’m the first word, the one nobody hears. A ghost! Mouldy corners, varied ache. An antidote to legs. Other kinds of legs. What if? In the plural. Effectively hidden from view. From now on, never, maybe. I’m that one there, a frayed wire. Not so live. Thank goddess! Lost the knack. Feelings, other complications. A leer, demi-frisson. Not so mellifluous. What’s that? Four syllables, five dead batteries. Trying, really trying. An ear, stretched right out. Yawning. Who says so? Rodents. One of these days. A glottal stop. Any stop. You know? Fully unloaded. As an actual question. Through the wall. Or on it, paper thin. In little lumps. Plasticine, child of distraction. Sticky. With french braids, venom. For now, anyway. And its protectorates. Table, tables. Slowly turning. Soft trifecta. Depending on depending. Plus one, plus four. A good bout of it. Dental floss, every ailment in the book. Didn’t read that one. Tumorous spine. Goodness, badness. Meaning? Not sure. Slightly ajar, still alive. Only in late morning. Hot ones all around! Me, I’m a pine tree, an old sapling. The word hardship, the thing itself. No apparatus, no switch. As far as the eye can see. Broken twigs. Chlorine, full rotation. Nostalgia for smell. Steroid cream too. A worrisome ping. Every ping. More ghosts, snickering. Dry catfood. Somatically speaking, of course. Multitudes. Just a few. Uncountable, oatmeal. Sentient? Or not. Crooked eye, mustard ketchup. I don’t follow. In between. One tooth, long gone. Ipso facto, pancakes. Don’t mind me. Just a wispy strand, an old cookie tin. Full of rags, wet matches. Tomorrow it is, then. Affirmation, flatness. Turning a turn. For the worse. A medley, covered in flies. Seventeen! At last. All-day breakfast. A johari window. Or door? Trying to be kind. Dead grass. A kind of hole. Yellow, sequential. Sloppy cloves. This one, just one string. Empty purple, an island. With a twang. The secret is in. And out. Successful, tail a-wagging. Thirsty, swelling with grace. Garbage can’t. Six pebbles, momentum. Or something like it. Inflatable nouns. Relative to, or from. A rise inside. Mushy. Not now! Small mammals, dry lips. Better than worse. That’ll do. Pine needles. Rings. Always an outsider. Concentric, more or less. Reprieve. Even more ghosts.





Simon Brown (1979) [photo credit: Maude Pilon] is a self-taught poet, translator and artist from the traditional territory of the Peskotomuhkati Nation (southwestern New Brunswick) currently based in Québec’s Montérégie-Est region (Ndakinna). His French and English texts have been presented in interdisciplinary artworks and collaborative performances, and via platforms such as Lemon Hound, Train, Estuaire, Vallum, Poetry Is Dead, Watts, and filling Station. As a translator, he has adapted texts by Erin Robinsong, Maude Pilon, Angela Carr, Danielle LaFrance and Jacob Wren, among others. His collections and artist’s books have been published in Québec, Canada and France by Vanloo, Moult, Le laps, squint press, and Paper Pusher. This Mud, A Word, is forthcoming later this year in Frog Hollow Press’s New Brunswick chapbook series. Simon is also currently translating a series of above/ground press chapbooks (Ottawa) to be published by Éditions Vanloo (Marseille) in 2019, beginning with Alice Burdick and Gary Barwin’s Pleasure Bristles.

twitter.com/simonbeige


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