LISTEN n’ READ: Russell Square Station (new spoken-word poetry collection)

Hey. Thanks for stopping by. Here are a few pieces I’m working on for a new collection following HOXTON SQUARE CIRCLES: Starfucking tales of sexless one-night stands. That book documented this woman’s journey thru the sexual landscape of Ottawa (Ontario), Canada. So it was a short book. I’m a tattle-tale. But the book was sparked by a fated evening in London, UK — I went there in November 2000 to follow my heart.

I met some folks that time in London — I went back there in November 2013, 13 years later to the month, to follow ‘friendship’. I(t) got fucked. These are the unpublished tales of what went down: stories that cross borders, and through which you’ve maybe travelled too. Its working title = RUSSELL SQUARE STATION: Mine the Trash.

Some highlights:

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I like the view,
Not to plummet.
I like the sun,
Not a burn in summit.

Kundera said the heaviest of burdens
Is life’s most intense fulfillment.

Read: Bonded, We Were Bound

Screw by Juan Carlos Noria - dixon

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It’s not that we do not know how to love
It’s not that we suffer dysfunction
It’s not that we are obsessed with some
It’s simply hard to tread through garbage.

The piles of shit that lay at our feet
In which we wade knee-deep and daily
The piles of crap that make us need
A certain kind of grace to deal with it stately…

… well it just exhausts us, does it not?
Please call my hands, take me out of this rot.

Read: Exhausted

Exhausted

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That chick with the big tits?
Man, she’s on, then off?
She looks like she fights a lot
You get off on higher ground.

Read: No Man, No Love, No Crush (aka Chick With The Big Tits)

Tits

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But the unbearable lightness of / Being so fucking stupid as to drink with him / To have been swayed by those chick feelings: / of compassion and of nurturing? READ: Red-dress

red dress

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“You’re doing my fucking head in!”
remember: it’s what you once said
sorting our mess: “I’m gonna tear my bloody eyes out!”
Must have been for real: where were they when we met up?

Read: Helping You Helping Me

Don Smith's Helping You Helping Me

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Warm Bloomsbury, the smell of bar / Wood, warmth by a radiator / at the window, Marta watched / when you entered. READ: Tour Guide

Not Just Her by Juan Carlos Noria

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Did you ever have a nightmare become a reality only to be rescued by someone? Do you think you’ll see them in your dreams next time you dream the nightmare, or has it been exorcised and what did it mean … ? READ: Dark Alley Dream Death

London Alley, Soho

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Do you ever question what circumstances brought you into someone’s life? Do you minimize their importance or do you believe in their grand design …

Read: Solitary Soul

Solitary Soul

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What would happen if you met someone who really “got” you to the point of giving you both danger, and saving you from it. What is the word for that safe-danger space and the meaning with give to the person who grants it us?

Read: Naturally

Beeline by Juan Carlos Noria

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What happens when you’re supposed to go to a Motörhead concert with someone and it gets cancelled? READ: The Story of O … my God! (aka The Fuckers Cancelled Motörhead)

Motorhead

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Excitement, provocation, feeling the headbuzz
Of a million electrified nights of
Fights
Hurts, between lovers
Kind of shaken, not stirred
More settled after the shake
READ: Rupert Martini

last-tango-in-paris-butter-scene

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I think I let you take me because up until that point, you seemed not taken by me. / So many times I felt guilty for feeling let down in your company. READ: “Panting Up River, Getting Down With Shitty Creep”

LTP124

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I had gone back next day in the day light of Brick Lane
The olive tree was gone from the flat, did I tell you?
READ: Olive Tree (Mystery)

BL BL

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C’est l’histoire d’un mec unique qui porte les similarités à Russell Brand — avec un poppy Muhn (c’est ‘meh’ en français)

Russell Brand Poppy Poppy Beard

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READ: I Dream of Reds

You did not see me for who I am.
But a clue was in exactly how I moved my hands
On your back (I remember that), and on your ass,
I’ve touched no man like that …

But when I had, there’s a man who said
“No woman’s ever touched me this way”
Another said: “No woman’s ever loved me this way”
Another still: “hold me like you hold me that way.”

sunken ship

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READ: Distance

The tube stopped
They loaded us unto a bus.
It was a long journey
With no breakfast.

Go The Distance by Juan Carlos Noria

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You’re someone else’s lover
a world apart and over – true?
The other half of a dueling duo:
your beauty, natural to you two/too.

READ: Too For You

Juan Carlos Noria "Two"

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It’s perfectly OK if you’ve been led astray by yourself or someone else, but mostly yourself. You got pissed, shit happened, you can’t handle your alcohol. It was nowhere near love, and don’t blame yourself for wanting … abandon. Read: It’s Settled Then (AKA A Band Guy Did One On)

Juan Carlos Noria

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With one hand on her heart
the other reached out
she’s made beautiful on a sardine can
that otherwise would be thrown out.

Read: Lady was a Lady Laid to Rest

Blight

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I am full of hang-ups. Read.

Duct by dixon

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You arrive just like you come
Mysterious, secretive, dark-sunglassed, slight-smilin’ Devil
someone shakes down, your crowd shivers some…
We all sit, fucked, not knowing what just happened.

Read: Thank you, Don’t Come Again

dixon

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Bang, bang, bang you’re still the one
Who when he takes aim with his gun
– Kills people
And blames them for getting in the way
Smiling sickly cuz he said simultaneously, ‘stay…’

Read: Bang, bang, bang, you’re still the one.

dixon

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Finally, THE END: A Letter To My Muse.

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I could trust but one thing –
That you would make a mess.
Around me, within me
On my nightgown, noodles, coffee: distress.

Read: Left a Mess

Left A Mess by dixon

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“If you haven’t the strength to impose your own terms upon life, then you must accept the terms it offers you.” – T.S. Eliot

“Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time.” – my muse

Read: Guilty, As Charged!

dixon

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There’s no time that was never unclear
But you kept lecturing me as though I didn’t hear

Read: Nothing Personal

nothing personal

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Yeats mused Maud Gonne
But didn’t marry her.
I mused a dude, he’s gone
He made me merry, sure.

He also made me bat-shit crazy

Read: To My Future Love-Lover

dixon - Convoy

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Take her in between: shee[i]t!

Because we were both in this
the same way “Come Sunday.”

I went.
You came.
Ah, screw it, eh?
She’s leaving this place, today.

Terror.
Eyes.

Read: Comme, Explicite

dixon - screw

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