PERVERSE issue 4C
Carter
Johns
Fane Saunders
Lyster
Hasti
Hullo there,
Welcome to the third part of PERVERSE 4! I hope you enjoy reading these poems - we start with clowns and end in crude oil, by way of a trombone slide…
There will be eight parts in total to this series by the way, so that should take us up to mid-October. I’ll open up submissions again towards the end of the year.
Enjoy!
With warmest wishes,
Chrissy
PERVERSE Editor
(FYI if you are reading this on a mobile phone, it may be best to turn the phone sideways. Some of the poems are displayed as images, so make sure you’ve clicked “show images” at the top of this mail. If you'd rather read these poems in a PDF you can do so here, along with previous instalments of this issue.)
Valentine Carter
LOVE POEM
this unruly clown tumbles out of a clapped-out car
all windmill-limbed keenness, daft Labrador grin
hectic, a whirling compass needle or else
a Geiger counter, sensitive as blistered heels
convinced there is not, & never could be, a beret-headed
mime around each corner caught on a length of rope
but, listen, there is the coded rhythm of near-ultimatums
like so much holiday luggage thrown down stairs
relieved of the sudden burden of a final straw polished
as if antique, an iron lung in an auction house
gasping for bathos now, still pale-faced & baggy-trousered
reeling, tripping over canoe-toed shoes trying to
say, look the big top, all collapsed & crumpled, is
from a safe distance, quite amusing in its own way,
& in that way, so like a porcupine in a whoopie cushion
John Johns
So sang the plunger-muted trombone
(for Jen)
Bwaah maaaa ooooo mwahh
bwaah ba maa wahh mww
bww aamw boowaam
ah mwah,
mbwaah oo mwaa wah?
Bwaah ma oo mwaaaaaaah
mwwmoo moo wah mbwoah
öööeuuummm
ah mwah
ah mbwaaoom
mbwooööaaaaaööööaaaaahhhhhhh oo
Bwah ma oomwah, bwah.
Tristram Fane Saunders
Cheek to Cheek
When we’re alone together, flammable
means inflammable. Anything peeled
is unpeeled. Our one-way mirror
is a two-way mirror
where anything unsealed is unconcealed.
An amicable split is never amicable.
Who’s left? means who has made the choice to leave?
or sometimes who is left
behind? or both or neither
so let’s go with neither.
Let us cleave together till we’re cleft
apart. For now, let there be laughter. Leave
after for after as long as cleft, a part, reminds
us not of left but of behinds.
Rowan Lyster
Your hot water bottle safety checklist
Fill your hot water bottle with tepid water.
Never expose it to a naked flame.
Avoid leaving your hot water bottle
unattended with children or pets.
If your hot water bottle acts suspiciously
contact the Bureau for Product Safety.
Find out more about how to do this in our film
Hot Water Bottles: The Hidden Dangers.
Do not go to bed with your hot water bottle.
Do not press your body against it.
Do not imagine the tingling sensation
of moulded rubber against your tongue.
Under no circumstances breathe the words
I love you into its open neck.
Your hot water bottle may seem harmless
but once you feel the pain, the damage is done.
If your hot water bottle won’t stop calling
destroy your phone and get a new one.
It may be sensible to change your identity
and burn any compromising images.
Hasti C.
Pay Enough And You Too Can Bathe In Crude Oil
Contributor Notes
Valentine Carter
Valentine Carter has published some short fiction and poetry. She’s also doing a PhD. Her novel, which is in verse of course, will be out in Autumn 2021.
Note on ‘LOVE POEM’:
“I always find love poetry horribly impressive. The depth of anguish! The glamourous pining! The stunning expertise! I am your more literally hopeless romantic and therefore any love poem that I write must reflect this fact by making repeated reference to circuses and clowns. So, in many ways, I’ve just written a love poem about myself. This is perhaps a bit of an odd thing to do, but isn’t everything when you really think about it?”
John Johns
Last year Zimzalla of Manchester published his first novel, In perfect blue night a white owl flies. He’s now in London finishing a second novel, Springtime in Benny’s Dungeon, and reading submissions for the first season of Tar Press. Soon he’ll head to UEA for that prose fiction MA.
Note on ‘So sang the plunger-muted trombone’:
“Trombonists commonly use the disembodied head of a toilet plunger to controllably filter the voice of their instrument. Might be worth checking ‘plunger mute’ on Youtube should you be interested. Always liked that humanoid quality of brass instruments, especially solitary ones. ‘So sang the plunger-muted trombone’ is a lovesong. It’s dedicated to Jen Aldred, my girlfriend.”
Tristram Fane Saunders
poetrybusiness.co.uk/product/woodsong/
Tristram Fane Saunders, 27, lives in London. Please buy (or ask your local library to buy) his pamphlet Woodsong. It’s about a cursed bird-man. It’s quite cheap, and very short.
Note on ‘Cheek to Cheek’:
“A poem that does exactly what it says on the tin.”
Rowan Lyster
https://twitter.com/rowanlyster
Rowan Lyster is a poet, cartoonist and arts administrator from Herefordshire. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in places including Magma, Poetry News, Tears In The Fence and Under The Radar.
Note on ‘Your hot water bottle safety checklist’:
“I recently discovered that an Australian friend of mine had never encountered a hot water bottle, causing me to fall into an internet rabbit hole which led to this safety announcement from the Australian Competition & Consumer Commission. Nobody else seemed to find it as fascinating as I did, so I wrote this poem, partly based on found text from the leaflet. I’m not convinced I’ve improved on the original.”
Hasti C.
Hasti C. is a poet & screenwriter based in South East London, and also runs monthly Peckham-based open mic night FRESH LIP.
Note on ‘Pay Enough And You Too Can Bathe In Crude Oil’:
“‘Pay Enough And You Too Can Bathe In Crude Oil’ began with a hungover contemplation of juddery, self-induced sickness, and lives in the stark, wormy seduction of wanting to do bad things.”