Jeremy Over & Ian Seed
From THE SLIPPERY MOUTH
1
Let's say the borehole is inadequate to the task.
Then it's time to lay Molly on the stove and offer
UK upright piano sales
making the sound of pebbles under the hooves of a horse drinking water
less palatable
for lowering your standards proves difficult
to describe something that has no words to describe it
like you’re lying in bed – excuse me – smoking my pipe, so
what is this? Lips. And what’s this? Ears
or eyes that monitor with the intensity of a pimp. What can I say?
‘It was morning, and lo, now it is evening, and nothing memorable is accomplished.’
What do you want to do my beautiful young Parisian woman? Go out? Out where?
We will serve our enjoyment best by concentrating on the open door.
The more you press, the faster it goes, with sudden surprises and splatters
over a thousand ideas about meat platters
but first could I trouble you for a stool sample? Make that a double.
2
As pants the hart for cooling streams
what matters is the sloshing sound that can be heard around its stump
making the kumquat redundant. I will open my mouth in Peebles
in it some modes of pure sensibility (quando, uni, situs, and also prius, simul)
are making a strange knocking sound
with the local name of Big Harry Redcap
temporarily silenced by the death of his aunt
popped out the door and tiptoed into the field all pearly
dragons and elephants tromping. Hammer and chisel chip away.
3
Or you might prefer to be Arthur Hirst the hermit sandstone pianist
sniffing and snoozling about among my flowers
and ‘NO CHAOS DAMN IT’
and antic artic ants around an ankle
Volume III Part 2 Al-Sufficient to Bastard
for we are now in a little town in Ohio. Here and there among
The Mysteries of Felicitie, [Here I am] [Look] [Behold],
split between motion and emotion.
It may be helpful for you to start with two things plenty
of beer and all the fun of the fair
with Russ Conway playing ‘Sidesaddle’
in a taut and lonely translation
from Bruno to Max Taut and a socially responsible approach to building
Rab — ½ Rgab =Tab That’s it
enters, that is, at a ground-level window.
4
We can hear him singing there, but where is his voice-box?
There is no easy way to tell. With index finger & thumb forming an 'L'
on a titty expedition by the Lake after midnight
on a mat appears a poodle and cake
yet all those straight lines'll be rubbed out when Titty's done the inking
Denver Inkling. Entities. Appears on a Denver Inkling. On a Mat.
Matt, whose totality could only be given in the regress of single parts (subdvisio or decompisitio)
never told anyone about the quasi-human dolls who made her wholly human.
So, then, the usual whey-hey tales of dusky maidens and their rubbery limbs?
Black patent leather shoes, plaster, whanging from a tree ood, metal rods, nuts and bolts,
almost 15M fried eggs, over 43M bacon rashers and 12M cups of tea
kreh-kreh-kreh-kreho-kreho-kreho
must be included in your application form (attached)
to boot. No, I wouldn’t want to live permanently anywhere but in Berlin.
5
Breathing impure breath emptied of its bride
because that was primarily where beauty resided.
Many Bowland farmers are the whole apparatus of cognition –
they are in the midst of reality responding with joy.
Bottoms galore hold the air in their hands
the swallows nesting with good reason
are not ruined by their vices. Let us pursue this thought
descending the staircase with water feature for wine cooling
Ada, Anna, Alberta and Augusta
take forty winks for the butcher’s whistle
on his sailboat at Sankt Wolfgang or boarding the Dover train
in pyjamas and a pork pie hat far greater than Farquhar Farquharson’s
sad penetration, circa 1895, so
we’d better make those big F’s
try to find out why that feeling has come about. This is your body
we’re talking about. Your head is elsewhere, lost in the buttercups
messages, documents, photos or people, all of whom
are [relatively invisible] early Alpine climbers in a ditch
as well as symptoms of pain in the fingers and orthotics for consideration of insoles
of in as, as in so for.
6
The whole neighbourhood is, in fact, honeycombed with shortcuts
to Marseilles with three thousand dollars in cash taped to his leg
face and finger me
Melissa Magee
involves one’s whole man exceptionally well
in L’Homme Orchestre where he becomes seven musicians playing in unison
in the list of rules of intercourse, in the teaching of it, in its everyday practice
fresh and cool as if cream were being gently poured over it
hosing the no-neck. ‘Hey, you just called me Hosing the No-Neck!’ said Hosing.
P. Ormsby-Lennon. Dons a beret. Plays about on piano. Goes with many regrets.
7
Public discourse fecundates one another,
but nothing fecundates one more than... No, not everyone becomes a demolition worker
for the same reasons
you lick lick lick me. That was quite a squirt. Thank you by the way.
Once more and they think to thank you (between any ‘this’ and any ‘that’)
smelling nice for your fat grey guest from Exeter
smaller than a mute swan but bigger than a mallard. Your mother
dip-wanders in and out of fractured waves. It’s still raining.
8
On the other side of the ocean, in a pot, buoyancy is not so idyllic
with no arm support, arch/dip spine, then progress to ‘scissors’.
The only metal you should let near your apples is steel
segmental control, 'hollow' abdominals, and back in 'ski slope'. Food is on the table
so is St Augustine, from whom we get the English word: ‘the-worst-delivery-firm-in- the-world’.
You were served by Kerryn. Tell us about your visit.
Go tell it on the mountain, Over the hills and everywhere,
these songs in his head move around with their one sound's finger here
in one’s ear clasp a raspberry ear pudding
but did he earn any bonus nectar points for his foolishness?
Or running down a hummingbird
yippee
(in the bad sense of this word)
yes, as a soldier but inside him or some such
support service. We need to find £500,000
bald-headed or hairless, long or tall, nohow
or no whom, no why Norway or nowhere in particular
probably not; there would have been no bottom
no Eric T.F. no André no Ernest Evelyn no Aldous G.K. Dorothy
amongst the horned cattle of my acquaintances, mere Germans if I may say so.
9
The world pole-flips one more time, mechanically geo
Giotto’s St Francis in Ecstasy for example, where the cloud itself
tried to take the reader through a long corridor
of their dealings with the suspect world at large
inside a toilet cubicle at Crewe station
inside a toilet cubicle at the Four Seasons Aberystwyth
inside the black-and-white vision of this cat peering steadily
at blackbirds inside out and back again
in the bottom of a bumble which is a bee's eye
so what, so fat what fatso, what's so fat about that
dark narrow alley opening unexpectedly onto a view of the city's austere beauty
so that you can’t remember what it felt like not to have known it before
the days of armitage shanks toilets at Warrington Bank Quay
and all the scampering and bounding after lizards in the spinifex
shining packets initially like the leaves in him.
10
An unfamiliar taste for lozenge-shaped light
as spirit, or spiritus mundi, or aqua vitae in the shape
of wood and stone – wood who could speak and reason
cobble pebble and eyeball all small
although frankly I don't see why it should
lick the heavenly ocean of her hair
that I there may lie extended.
11
And duly without confusion or jostling or jam
up its non-negotiable awesome bottom aboard
Bunyan’s imaginary landmarks: the Delectable Hills
dressed in the suit and sweater that have always belonged to him
comes to life before our very eyes, moving between ambivalent poles
were two or three birds with our parcels of bread and ripe cheese
expertly cobbled together by B. H. Friedman. On a wagon close by
expertly cobbled together by B.H. Friedman on a wagon
so to speak. Eight years later he returned to the words and tried again
the stuck tool. Yes, it’s quite old, but please do keep in touch. The best way is via
a dead end? It certainly reads like a non sequitur initially
stepped into the wide hall. Did someone say cake?
12
And I Bob flAkeley gherkins Sri Lanka
lightly bappered and serped with a wedge of lemoner
'mid the granules of granola in Granada TV theme tunes
stepped into the wide, lonesome bed. Did someone say threesome?
No, just wholesome twosomes and the Joy of Being (with subtitles)
move us far more than the shrines to which they lead. They are the silent ones
or whom, on a good day – and everyday is a good day – the coin that’s lost in the river
like a late second unthought , or a deleted word to be kept but struck through
that can be kept but not struck through the same river twice
with the realisation that with your wanderings you are now not only lost in the slippery mouth of the rain
but also in other countries where he not only dropped out of college but also drank all of the soda
wandering the woods in search of birds’ eggs, only to return
with a fox poo in his hands, which he said he had found in his pants, only to offer
in this moment a path to steadiness of mind and joy in one’s work
in the sheer laciness of foambreak nieces.
1
Let's say the borehole is inadequate to the task.
Then it's time to lay Molly on the stove and offer
UK upright piano sales
making the sound of pebbles under the hooves of a horse drinking water
less palatable
for lowering your standards proves difficult
to describe something that has no words to describe it
like you’re lying in bed – excuse me – smoking my pipe, so
what is this? Lips. And what’s this? Ears
or eyes that monitor with the intensity of a pimp. What can I say?
‘It was morning, and lo, now it is evening, and nothing memorable is accomplished.’
What do you want to do my beautiful young Parisian woman? Go out? Out where?
We will serve our enjoyment best by concentrating on the open door.
The more you press, the faster it goes, with sudden surprises and splatters
over a thousand ideas about meat platters
but first could I trouble you for a stool sample? Make that a double.
2
As pants the hart for cooling streams
what matters is the sloshing sound that can be heard around its stump
making the kumquat redundant. I will open my mouth in Peebles
in it some modes of pure sensibility (quando, uni, situs, and also prius, simul)
are making a strange knocking sound
with the local name of Big Harry Redcap
temporarily silenced by the death of his aunt
popped out the door and tiptoed into the field all pearly
dragons and elephants tromping. Hammer and chisel chip away.
3
Or you might prefer to be Arthur Hirst the hermit sandstone pianist
sniffing and snoozling about among my flowers
and ‘NO CHAOS DAMN IT’
and antic artic ants around an ankle
Volume III Part 2 Al-Sufficient to Bastard
for we are now in a little town in Ohio. Here and there among
The Mysteries of Felicitie, [Here I am] [Look] [Behold],
split between motion and emotion.
It may be helpful for you to start with two things plenty
of beer and all the fun of the fair
with Russ Conway playing ‘Sidesaddle’
in a taut and lonely translation
from Bruno to Max Taut and a socially responsible approach to building
Rab — ½ Rgab =Tab That’s it
enters, that is, at a ground-level window.
4
We can hear him singing there, but where is his voice-box?
There is no easy way to tell. With index finger & thumb forming an 'L'
on a titty expedition by the Lake after midnight
on a mat appears a poodle and cake
yet all those straight lines'll be rubbed out when Titty's done the inking
Denver Inkling. Entities. Appears on a Denver Inkling. On a Mat.
Matt, whose totality could only be given in the regress of single parts (subdvisio or decompisitio)
never told anyone about the quasi-human dolls who made her wholly human.
So, then, the usual whey-hey tales of dusky maidens and their rubbery limbs?
Black patent leather shoes, plaster, whanging from a tree ood, metal rods, nuts and bolts,
almost 15M fried eggs, over 43M bacon rashers and 12M cups of tea
kreh-kreh-kreh-kreho-kreho-kreho
must be included in your application form (attached)
to boot. No, I wouldn’t want to live permanently anywhere but in Berlin.
5
Breathing impure breath emptied of its bride
because that was primarily where beauty resided.
Many Bowland farmers are the whole apparatus of cognition –
they are in the midst of reality responding with joy.
Bottoms galore hold the air in their hands
the swallows nesting with good reason
are not ruined by their vices. Let us pursue this thought
descending the staircase with water feature for wine cooling
Ada, Anna, Alberta and Augusta
take forty winks for the butcher’s whistle
on his sailboat at Sankt Wolfgang or boarding the Dover train
in pyjamas and a pork pie hat far greater than Farquhar Farquharson’s
sad penetration, circa 1895, so
we’d better make those big F’s
try to find out why that feeling has come about. This is your body
we’re talking about. Your head is elsewhere, lost in the buttercups
messages, documents, photos or people, all of whom
are [relatively invisible] early Alpine climbers in a ditch
as well as symptoms of pain in the fingers and orthotics for consideration of insoles
of in as, as in so for.
6
The whole neighbourhood is, in fact, honeycombed with shortcuts
to Marseilles with three thousand dollars in cash taped to his leg
face and finger me
Melissa Magee
involves one’s whole man exceptionally well
in L’Homme Orchestre where he becomes seven musicians playing in unison
in the list of rules of intercourse, in the teaching of it, in its everyday practice
fresh and cool as if cream were being gently poured over it
hosing the no-neck. ‘Hey, you just called me Hosing the No-Neck!’ said Hosing.
P. Ormsby-Lennon. Dons a beret. Plays about on piano. Goes with many regrets.
7
Public discourse fecundates one another,
but nothing fecundates one more than... No, not everyone becomes a demolition worker
for the same reasons
you lick lick lick me. That was quite a squirt. Thank you by the way.
Once more and they think to thank you (between any ‘this’ and any ‘that’)
smelling nice for your fat grey guest from Exeter
smaller than a mute swan but bigger than a mallard. Your mother
dip-wanders in and out of fractured waves. It’s still raining.
8
On the other side of the ocean, in a pot, buoyancy is not so idyllic
with no arm support, arch/dip spine, then progress to ‘scissors’.
The only metal you should let near your apples is steel
segmental control, 'hollow' abdominals, and back in 'ski slope'. Food is on the table
so is St Augustine, from whom we get the English word: ‘the-worst-delivery-firm-in- the-world’.
You were served by Kerryn. Tell us about your visit.
Go tell it on the mountain, Over the hills and everywhere,
these songs in his head move around with their one sound's finger here
in one’s ear clasp a raspberry ear pudding
but did he earn any bonus nectar points for his foolishness?
Or running down a hummingbird
yippee
(in the bad sense of this word)
yes, as a soldier but inside him or some such
support service. We need to find £500,000
bald-headed or hairless, long or tall, nohow
or no whom, no why Norway or nowhere in particular
probably not; there would have been no bottom
no Eric T.F. no André no Ernest Evelyn no Aldous G.K. Dorothy
amongst the horned cattle of my acquaintances, mere Germans if I may say so.
9
The world pole-flips one more time, mechanically geo
Giotto’s St Francis in Ecstasy for example, where the cloud itself
tried to take the reader through a long corridor
of their dealings with the suspect world at large
inside a toilet cubicle at Crewe station
inside a toilet cubicle at the Four Seasons Aberystwyth
inside the black-and-white vision of this cat peering steadily
at blackbirds inside out and back again
in the bottom of a bumble which is a bee's eye
so what, so fat what fatso, what's so fat about that
dark narrow alley opening unexpectedly onto a view of the city's austere beauty
so that you can’t remember what it felt like not to have known it before
the days of armitage shanks toilets at Warrington Bank Quay
and all the scampering and bounding after lizards in the spinifex
shining packets initially like the leaves in him.
10
An unfamiliar taste for lozenge-shaped light
as spirit, or spiritus mundi, or aqua vitae in the shape
of wood and stone – wood who could speak and reason
cobble pebble and eyeball all small
although frankly I don't see why it should
lick the heavenly ocean of her hair
that I there may lie extended.
11
And duly without confusion or jostling or jam
up its non-negotiable awesome bottom aboard
Bunyan’s imaginary landmarks: the Delectable Hills
dressed in the suit and sweater that have always belonged to him
comes to life before our very eyes, moving between ambivalent poles
were two or three birds with our parcels of bread and ripe cheese
expertly cobbled together by B. H. Friedman. On a wagon close by
expertly cobbled together by B.H. Friedman on a wagon
so to speak. Eight years later he returned to the words and tried again
the stuck tool. Yes, it’s quite old, but please do keep in touch. The best way is via
a dead end? It certainly reads like a non sequitur initially
stepped into the wide hall. Did someone say cake?
12
And I Bob flAkeley gherkins Sri Lanka
lightly bappered and serped with a wedge of lemoner
'mid the granules of granola in Granada TV theme tunes
stepped into the wide, lonesome bed. Did someone say threesome?
No, just wholesome twosomes and the Joy of Being (with subtitles)
move us far more than the shrines to which they lead. They are the silent ones
or whom, on a good day – and everyday is a good day – the coin that’s lost in the river
like a late second unthought , or a deleted word to be kept but struck through
that can be kept but not struck through the same river twice
with the realisation that with your wanderings you are now not only lost in the slippery mouth of the rain
but also in other countries where he not only dropped out of college but also drank all of the soda
wandering the woods in search of birds’ eggs, only to return
with a fox poo in his hands, which he said he had found in his pants, only to offer
in this moment a path to steadiness of mind and joy in one’s work
in the sheer laciness of foambreak nieces.
Copyright © Jeremy Over & Ian Seed 2019
Jeremy Over's poetry has been published in various magazines such as Poetry Review, PN Review and Rialto, and anthologies such as Carcanet’s New Poetries II (1996). He has two full collections with Carcanet: A Little Bit of Bread and No Cheese (2001) and Deceiving Wild Creatures (2009). A third, Fur Coats in Tahiti, is due to be published in the summer of 2019.
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Ian Seed’s collections of poems include New York Hotel (2018), Identity Papers (2016) and Makers of Empty Dreams (2014), all from Shearsman. His book The Thief of Talant (2016) (the first translation into English of Pierre Reverdy’s Le Voleur de Talan) is published by Wakefield. New York Hotel is selected by Mark Ford as a 2018 TLS Book of the Year. His work has appeared in Molly Bloom 11 and 14.
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