I'VE JUST INVENTED THE BLOBBOGRAPH

This is a new form of graphic communication, (or most probably it isn't), but these two examples of this sort of mutant Venn diagram show some of the differences between the roles in my life before I retired two years ago , and after.

BEFORE


AFTER


So it seems that there could be an analogy between the impact of retirement on my life and that of the internet and its associated technological innovations on the print media. Whereas as one element used to predominate now various differing ones compete and overlap in confusing way and believe me, I wish I knew how to monetise it!

Poetry rehearsal for the event listed below, to suffer for my art click on the link:
http://gptu.net/orjo/WS310023.WMA
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This AUGUST DOCUMENT was mired in the strange procedures of LOSS. It resided behind bookcases and migrated seasonally in and out of files and plastic wallets. Its owner believed it lost but in a dream a crested murrulet flew from the drear guano streaked cliffs of an ancient clime and vouchsafed that it would be found again. IT has been GORN GORN GORN now it is BACK all other versions are as false as cardboard canapés containing rubber seafood, they will make your teeth bounce back and lead you into a morass of misapprehenspoons

The above is something I wrote this morning prior to going to a script m eeting/ rehearsal with my collaborators in a shortly forthcoming and badly prepared poetry show. (above)

The timelag is worsening but I might have paid off the sleep deficit by staying in bed until noon and eventually after making some token gestures towards the housework deficit.

I go on safari down my backgarden into the lost jungle of Dollis Hill. There are strange sculptures of a lost civilisation slowly being swamped by burgeoning undergrowth




and eventually I hack my way through to my goal: THE COMPOST HEAPS OF HISTORY.

I turn them over with my trusty garden fork for I am a revolutionary. I fear they are dead but a robin flys down to feast on the bugs that I have exposed whilst preparing for his winter job of posing for christmas cards.

This kind of thing inspires this kind of thing
A ROTTEN POEM

I am the compost
I rot in a heap
I rot when you wake
I rot when you sleep

I have no body
Nor brain instead
I am the living
That lives on the dead

Potato peelings
Garden cuttings and teabags
Or a philosopher’s head
Wrapped up in a sack

It all came from compost
I bring it back

All organic transformed
That’s what I do
I am the compost
Soon you’ll be too

I managed to do some webpage work for Dodo Modern Poets early this morning at Birkbeck,namely putting up a web page in their index of poets for their founder Patric.

Sadly the rest of the day was wasted in that although the bar wasn't very busy, I wasn't able to use my new laptop because I'd crashed it when I closed it down yesterday and I took a long process of trial and error to work out how to reboot it.

THIS IS THE LOGO of EatLatinanDie Books

I'm posting it here because it could be the last surviving version of this artwork by my friend and colleague Emile Sercombe (aka Steve Lobb). It mysteriously appeared when I set up the My Profile section of this blog, it originally came from another of my blogs, where it no longer appears(http://quadraoptica.blogspot.com/ ). Perhaps this is a seasonal migration in some way associated with unseen magnetic forces, but my actual profile is uglier.