It’s an impressive recital can blast through my workplace. So here’s a nod to Geraldine Monk, who’s startling texture has twice broken me out of some arbeital reverie.
I’ve been hoovering Ubu’s sound poetry, and the Archive of the Now, into my new iPod. My vacuum action has raided Salt and Bloodaxe, and will target epoetry and epoetry. There is much to explore.
Is it an abuse of poets’ work to shuffle their recitals as accompaniment to the 9–5?