Pomes Flixus, a new collection of poetry from MW Bewick, will be published by Dunlin Press on 25 May. The book is available to pre-order at our shop.
We’ll be trailing the poems over the coming weeks, and there will be some online launch activity over the bank holiday launch weekend at the end of May – so do keep a check of our social channels as we’ll be posting on our Facebook page, and on Instagram and Twitter. Here’s a little blurb about the collection:
The poems in Pomes Flixus are a collision of constantly shifting perspectives and descriptive transitions that transport the mind to unexpected places, undercut preconceptions and arrive, often poignantly, in non-culminations. Found phrases, pop and classical references, the avant-garde, below-the-line commentary, the vocabulary of finance and marketing, all co-exist alongside depictions of the natural world and the suburban everyday. The impressionistic vignettes, whether seeing a leaf on a path, waiting at a station, remembering absent friends, or watching the rain, never seek to define. Instead, they celebrate ambiguity and the subjectivity of thought that underpins our temporal experience of the world. Beneath the heteroglossia and aleatory effects, is a series of sometimes startling evocations of life in the modern world, sharp with considerations of culture, class and the use of language itself.
And here’s a poem from the collection:
In the smog of alarms ferried to sleep
with the entitled crow and toothpaste brand
it’s tough to alphabet an eye
as the copy is leaked from content labs,
the danger mediated into noise,
the music swept behind the OOH
at the roundabout in its amplified mime,
the zephyr of cars and shabby revelry
haptic and fenced in its chosen attire,
the reasoned thought unravelled by the dream
that change can be made a tool for change
when change is small and easy to pocket
and then, stalling like a stone, the standings
of broom and dust, so upright, the fading scars
meaning nothing but the bets of years to come,
the safeguard bargains, oh, something
clammy in the hands with the drizzle and coffee,
not what was expected and thoroughly unprepared,
the bins overflowing, the taxis at rest
and this, the encounter first and last,
like the thought of us when young and coltish,
the chance meet made antithetical, unleavened, said.
In a recent blog post, MW Bewick (or Martin, as you might know him) said of writing the collection:
“I wanted to bear witness to uncertainty and ambiguity, to the augmentations, transpositions, diminutions, inversions. I wanted words that didn’t claim what wasn’t theirs to claim. I wanted something almost involuntary. Found words, words from differing lexicons/vocabularies. Heteroglossia. Dialogisms. The whole multieffingfariousness of it all.”
Indeed, the ‘source material’ for the poems includes influences as diverse as Derrida, Greater Anglia train routes across East Anglia and the A14, James Kelman, Egremont’s Crab Fair, economic models of counterperformativity, Fred Frith, Nathalie Sarraute and Kanye West, the Golden Record of the Voyage Spacecraft, Steve Reich and Pauline Oliveros, and a holiday in Vence, France.
Of course, if you want to see how that all comes together, you’ll need to order the book – especially as we (for obvious reasons) have no ‘live and in person’ events at which we can meet and greet you and share a glass of wine or two.
Which leads us to that link again – here’s our shop.