In The Terminals Of Minraud

In The Terminals Of Minraud is a trilogy of short stories assembled entirely out of sentences from William Burroughs novels. (I couldn’t afford to chop up my copies of the books, so they aren’t technically proper cut-up stories).

The three stories – March My Captive Head, Last Of The Gallant Heroes and Fading My Name Through Dying Air) were assembled using five different Burroughs novels (Junky, Naked Lunch, The Ticket That Exploded, The Soft Machine, and The Place Of Dead Roads), and adhering to the following rules:

1. Each sentence should be from a different book from the preceding and following sentences.
2. Each sentence should be used whole.

(Minor changes to names, genders, tenses, etc were allowed, to maintain consistency.)

I think in the end I broke both those rules once, across the three stories. Please forgive me for my crimes.

In The Terminals Of Minraud

1. March My Captive Head(annotated pdf)
2. Last Of The Gallant Heroes(annotated pdf)
3. Fading My Name Through Dying Air(annotated pdf)

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Objects Of Desire

When I was little, we had a set of dinner plates with illustrated cats prancing in a circle round the edges. There was an error on one of the four plates, so a single cat had no tail.

This was always the plate to have. Tears were often shed in pursuit of its imperfection.

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Notes:

1. Written on September 7th, 2019

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4/3/4 (#2)

some more poems
all written
in 4/3/4

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#27: night sky #1

beneath the stars
on my back
I lay weeping

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#28: night sky #2

A near full moon
surrounded
by wisps of cloud

***

#29: memory loss

I have learned much
forgotten
many times more

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#30: discomfort

pigeon orgy
on the roof
I look away

***

#31: ruin

they closed the pub
years ago
left it to rot

***

#32: approaching dusk #1

the contrails sweep
in curved arcs
across the sky

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#33: approaching dusk #2

storm clouds approach
thunder heard
no lightning seen

***

#34: a sunday afternoon

suddenly now
I feel sick
faint, my eyes weep

***

#35: afterwards

I sleep soundly
through the night
and through the day

***

#36: british summer time

went to the shops
it rained and
rained and rained and

***

#37: living room

there’s a spider
hanging there
waiting, waiting

***

#38: bank holiday weekend #1

sat beneath a
parasol
and did not move

***

#39: bank holiday weekend #2

hair wet with sweat
head throbbing
i cannot sleep

***

#40: an autobiography of my life until now

I was lonely
then I was
lonelier still

***

#41: september

the sun went in
the wind blew
early autumn

***

#42: in the park #1

a sausage dog
prancing by
grinning, grinning

***

#43: in the park #2

a pound a bag
by the pond
to buy duck food

***

#44: in the park #3

i put away
the rubbish
others had left

***

#45:

a small forest
of dead trees
all turned to bone

***

#46: beyond intransigence

if I can change
my own mind
you can change yours

***

#47: the catcher in the rye

I’d never read
this before
but now I have

***

#48: i

I feel so tired
all the time
old bones aching

***

#49: corrections

rewriting this
poem took
several hours

***

#50: in my pocket

a tiny scrap
of paper
containing this

***

#51: autumnal river scene #1

on the river
an egret
amongst the gulls

***

#52: autumnal river scene #2

fisherman’s boat
fisherman
fisherman’s dog

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Notes:

1. Written between August 10th and September 6th

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Tale #73: (fragment)

There was a woman who lived in the woods. She gathered up the dead things that lay on the forest floor and brought them to her home. She gave names to these nameless creatures, whispered words of love and kindness as she placed them in freshly dug graves. And at night they would come out and walk with her, beneath the stars, beneath the moon, the shadows wrapped around them like robes.

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Notes:

1. Written in June 2018

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