trading misery for death (the revolution will not be photographed)

a year ago horsemouth was writing poetry following the death of the (somewhat death-obsessed) sudanese poet abdel wahab yousif (often known as latinos) who set off towards europe. from his poems it would be fair to say he was not travelling hopefully, just off the coast of libya the inflatable carrying him and 45 other refugees  turned over and he and they drowned. four of his poems survive in translation online, a few articles about him, possibly a clip on youtube, and we have photographs of him, and some of his words have made it into song (at about 15 minutes). 

off course horsemouth doesn't believe in creativity as a solution to injustice (or even as a temporary release from its pains) - he likes the rage of abdul wahab yousif's verse, he likes its pessimism. in some way the initial report of his death has the best artistic response to his death in its title - trading misery for death. 

for abdel wahab yousif

occupy heaven against the wastes of time

the silver linings

keep on coming

'don't they just'

like the clouds

like the deaths of poets

and anthropologists

Abdel Wahab Yousif

(say his name)

and now we have your poems

they floated free of the boat

(but you did not)

'die fast or die slow'

die in hospital

die drowning in the sea

die like a rat

I want you to die

I want you to die

and I want your corpse

to turn over

and look up at the clouds

and their silver linings

of democracy

and europe

horsemouth feels he is on safe ground (boom boom) calling for abdel wahab yousif's death because he's already dead (and thus it can't hurt him). looking at the poem now he should probably cut the last two lines (but on the other hand they are a strong 'pull factor').

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 'recently photography has become almost as widely practiced an amusement as sex and dancing...'            - susan sontag, on photography, p.8. 

this susan confidently asserted 44 years ago (possibly even earlier in the pages of the NYRB). 

horsemouth couldn't possibly comment (he hasn't been out dancing in probably two years and as for the sex...). there's a camera on the laptop (but horsemouth never takes it out and about). horsemouth has a stupid phone (rather than a smart one) so no camera there. as a result horsemouth will often inveigle other people into taking photographs of him (and publish them here). truly his vanity knows no bounds. 

er. today... er. today horsemouth doesn't know. maybe a walk with tim goldie. more reading of sontag's on photography (a book it will probably turn out horsemouth owns already and has forgotten he owns and that has become lost in the stacks). 

horsemouth should probably get on with writing the business plan. he has been processing. his critics have made him think. they have demanded the impossible and now horsemouth will attempt to serve them the thin tasteless gruel of the possible and see how they like it). 

we roll towards the autumn equinox (wednesday 22nd september) the time to pay ghost dog (and the other retainers). in normal years we would be off down the long dark tunnel  of work and dark nights until horsemouth (like mole) would emerge blinking into the sunlight of  may 2022. 

but this has not been a year like any other and horsemouth is not clear that he wants to get back up and dance, he thinks the dance of death might be a good one to sit out.