By Richard Mather Simulacra peel Continually from the body’s Surface, each image Bearing the appearance of the Part it belongs to. A...

Without division or interval, the body appears as pure form over content, surface without depth.

Not the growing stem or the leaf blowing in the wind; not the opening bud or the emerging radicle; not the fourfold root yearning for water.

By Richard Mather I There is (if you care to know), a flower of folly growing On my brain, on the surface of the matter’s deep. Fit for...

By Richard Mather Potato eaters – five peasant women, clothed in rags, seated round a square table in a brown room. The scene is set....

By Richard Mather Blood, tears, a vial of sea salt, dice, cards, a postcard from Venice. Magic is time and space. Magic is the space...