Deliquescent Bodies (Love Parade) I hope for night; it comes; it is here; it comes with rain & river, & the lights are electric. I am offered a drink & the mercury blue neon over the door catches my eye, tears open the retina, imbuing the optic nerve with cold cathode gas, ionising my nervous system to the limit. Breathing carbon dioxide, I metabolize my own body. I am a pillar of ether by the exit door. But I’m not alone. We all matter less than we did before,

Under a Spinozan Lens: Israel, Zionism and Bob Dylan’s ‘Neighborhood Bully’ [Article originally published on academia.edu for Holocaust Memorial Day / Yom HaShoah on 27th January 2024.] Thus this prejudice became a superstition, and fixed its roots deeply in the mind — Spinoza, Ethics [1] A little forty years ago — October 1983 — singer-songwriter Bob Dylan unveiled his Infidels album, which featured the ironically-titled ‘Neighborhood Bully’, a song depicting the trials of t

Academia-edu - Under a Spinozan Lens: Israel, Zionism and Bob Dylan's 'Neighborhood Bully' Published on Academia.edu (DOC) Under a Spinozan Lens: Israel, Zionism and Bob Dylan's 'Neighborhood Bully'

Saul The soul of the king an out-of-tune lyre with harpstrings for guts – many sharps and flats. Sent by the LORD the holy pneuma's hand scrapes unholy noise. It maddens the king with dissonant thought – the fatal vibration of blood in the heart until he is dead.

A Jazz Trombone Extends a Metaphor, the Length of a Memory A jazz trombone extends a metaphor, the length of a memory. With a memory, my grandfather says, You got to hear its pitch, its tone & blow life into it, then you retract, Slide right on back to Winter ‘69 When the Big Band scene died or the 1956 Klan attack on Nat King Cole; More often it’s1930s Long Island NYC Where his father met his mother (my great-grandmother) & you’re right there on a corner in Bro

Night Sketches Over Lytham St Annes, Liverpool and Leeds, Manchester too, there's a full moon in white light suspended and all tonight’s stars are out, wannabe stars on dirty side-streets in designer gear, in dirty black cabs on dirty black roads. Drive too fast brother and you don’t see a cat’s green eyes rub past the dustbins; or a fox ethereal in light electric, sniffing a chicken bone. High on pleasure of the sensuous kind, they go on, each