January 28, 2016


The fat man laughed because
the restaurant told him to,
because the oysters that slipped
at atrocious expense
through his pinguid lips
were poisonous,
and the hock at his elbow
hardly less,
and the lady, too,
so svelte in the crypt
of her basilisk dress
was dangerous
beyond the laughable.
Wasn’t that diamond
at her cleavage
an oyster between
white dunes on a beach,
growing luscious on sewage’s
steamy tureen
of barely detectable
radioactive garbage?

Anne Stevenson

After Rain

January 28, 2016


Look how our big world turns tiny and upside down
in raindrops on thorns of gorse: along the lane
to the small harbour the hedges are empty of leaves
and everything has a flayed, scrubbed look, antique
and about to be new, the brusque wind flailing branches
in a rough annunciation of change, a change in the weather
that must unsettle us, too, who persist inside its loops
and mazes, unable to see straight, unable to forecast
tomorrow or the day after, only able to remember
what happened: the air sweetening to freshness, a sense
of calm calming down, of getting to the other side
of turbulence, of things being touched for once
to wholeness, that somehow nothing bad could happen.

Eamon Grennan


January 28, 2016


My mother swears she saw
my baby brother rise from his cot
one stormy night when
we were living upstate.

She was awake, checking the shutters,
when she saw him levitate,
a foot or more, covers rising
with him the way they do

in carnival shows, so you don’t see
the wires. But, he lay soft and pliant,
a floater, weightless as
a shadow on the wall.

“Something in the air,” Mother said,
because she believed in such things,
and reminded us often that most
children know how to fly.

And I do remember running down a hillside,
breathless, the ground rising to meet me,
my heart lifting my blood
so effortlessly

I knew that if I stepped out onto the air
that it would hold me.
I may even have done it
without realizing

how easy it is, before doubt takes hold
and weds you to the ground.
Odd that we should forget
such things.

Odd, too, when I tell the story
how no one believes exactly,
but the room gets quiet
and everyone listens.


Cathryn Essinger

(Cathryn Essinger has published three books of poetry, including My Dog Does Not Read Plato (2004) and What I Know about Innocence (2009). Her first work, A Desk in the Elephant House (1998), won the Walt McDonald First Book Award from Texas Tech University Press.

Her poems have been featured in the Southern ReviewNew England Review, andQuarterly West. Essinger’s work has also been anthologized in The Poetry Anthology: 1912–2002Poetry Daily: 366 Poems, and O Taste and See: Food Poems. She has been awarded an Ohio Arts Council Grant and was Ohio’s Poet of the Year in 2005).

Sex box

D.H. Lawrence had the impression – that psychoanalysis was shutting sexuality up in a bizarre sort of box painted with bourgeois motifs, in a kind of rather repugnant artificial triangle, thereby stifling the whole of sexuality as a production of desire so as to recast it along entirely different lines, making of it a ‘dirty little secret’, a dirty little family secret, a private theatre rather than the fantastic factory of nature and production.

Gilles Deleuze
Capitalism and Schizophrenia

I was well enough

January 28, 2016


I didn’t feel well, but they told me I was well enough. They didn’t say in so many words that I was as well as I would ever be, but that was the implication.

Samuel Beckett
The End


Televised between 4 October 1965 and 30 June 1971 on BBC 2, Out of the Unknown contained some of the best Science Fiction Drama ever to appear on television. The first three series were pure SF, the fourth series, unfortunately, abandoned the SF formula and went for out and out (weak) horror…

One or two of the most memorable episodes:


No place like earth

This was an adaptation of two stories by John Wyndham: Time to Rest and its sequel No Place on Earth. We follow our hero good ol’ Bert, one of a small number of humans on Mars  – the earth was totally destroyed fourteen years earlier. But Bert unlike the others cannot settle: he is an itinerant tinker, travelling the Martian canals from place to place, fixing pots and pans and basic mechanical devices for the indigenous population…

Out of the unknown_Radio Times

The Machine Stops

This short story by E M Forster written in 1909 predicted television, E-mail and the Internet. It shows us a bleak future where human beings live underground and communicate via Cinematophote. The omnipresent Machine of the title controls the environment and keeps everybody “safe”. But what happens if the machine stops…?

Out Of The Unknown_The Counterfeit Man repeat article

The Counterfeit Man 

Based on the short story by Alan E Nourse –  at least one malicious, malevolent shape-shifting alien has infiltrated the crew of a space ship bound for earth. The ship’s medical officer investigates…

OOTU The Naked Sun

The Naked Sun

From the Isaac Asimov novel  – police detective Lije Baley and his robot associate, R. Daneel Olivaw, investigate the impossible murder of Rikaine Delmarre, a prominent “fetologist” ,on a planet where physical proximity is taboo but nudity is not.

Out Of The Unknown_ Frankenstein Mark IIOut Of The Unknown_ Sucker bait