Hollo the prophet

Every morning since Hollo died I've read his work (many of his books, but all of the indescribable Sojourns collected poems volume) on the tube, going to woerk, on the central Line. I've already written about how this work has had a profound affect on me, how personal it has become, how I feel his work like a ghost around me in this city. Now starting to read other poets for the first time in what feels like a long time, I have the sensation there are other things at play. This poetry has done something to me poetry has not done before. I don't know what that is. The humour, the trace of Scandinavia is in there. I'm sharing this work with people I really care about and they are feeling it too. Some snippets

whatever these two do
is interesting

round lamps of cells grow
up to lover porridge later

switch then   to sleep now
the flying foxes swarm out
great   its flurry time

watching the spectacle of the money
come to an end
things become clear

the energy of the world has grown tired
of our green &

bumbling miniature world tree
in our front room

at times it seems merely a question of how to abdicate

the dashing biologist
“with the looks of a viking”

but really my parents
you were giant white rabbit people

one worries about the future of bears
in public in one house
this is known as a poetry reading
then one proceeds to drink gallons of cider in public
this is known as getting cracked

in love we loaf
munching love’s leaf
it is a fortunate condition
it is a pre-occupied porcupine
going about mother maya’s business

ah  anna bloom
sweet ginger muff

the world seen as a huge inpenetrable
granite arse

el che is dead long live moomin troll

the elephant fell in love with a milimeter

francois villon was beautiful people
   he went around treating people like shit

didn’t marry him ‘only to sleep’
  but does now

they drowned my puppies
so I drunk a lot of vodka

there’s none could cure you
                                    of your ignorance
               I mean that’s great
                        we love you as you are

      in the upper devonian sea
    life is quiet

looks like the skeleton of a brain
if a brain had bones

a bear, I thought

not one minute of my life have I wasted