S.J. Fowler & Alexander Kell: Museum of Debt

The Museum of Debt is an exploration of the unspoken in a contemporary British workplace – most specifically a workplace where the task in hand is the preservation of dead objects – inanimate historical trinkets which pass on their own ossification to their watchmen & watchwomen, and breed a myriad of depressions. Between the concussion of photography and irony of poetries, so the Museum of Debt is about mortality, and a mild form of waking death. Both poet & photographer involved were involved doing the job they documented. A project of internal projection with an innately shared set of meanings and experiences. The photographs were taken then the poems were written
S.J. Fowler

you can get a sudden attack of nausea by staying too long in an art gallery as well. It must be some kind of illness – museumitis – unknown to medical science. Or could it be the air of death surrounding all things man-made, whether beautiful or ugly?
Gustav Heyrink

xxvi. disney underwater; it kicks the nun & wins a prize

goward, triumph – Hermeph
phone me
I know hajj was the greatest day
of your life
but there is a new pilgrimage today
the destination
is a Volvo
parked outside jude’s Clapham apartment
praise be
I can smell you from my car, Judith
& urine, the smell of burning cornfields
baseball, rebellion
the sound of a bike chain, locking
as disease falls
as children are torn from their parents
as mercy looms
you devote your life to blogging

Alexander Kell image

xxvii. the fat duck is worth every penny

precisely because the wind did I run at lunchtime…

my hands so blue they could no longer
close into mitts
to be fit! to have abs so I can buttfuck a choirboy
without conscience or worship
I humbly kneel before my pope … joan
a grape becomes a pellet for princess
a dropbox private video for Norwich
a straw dot upon the forehead, a red piñata
& a glass black eye smartly adorned
with my image, approaching, smartly
a camera – what has been witnessed
in the ford centre, upon the orange
a fury prawn charging at a pig’s eye
boys & dancing choose

Alexander Kell image

xxxii. Morlock

& tonight begin we with torture
to be spun upon a wheel
of ancient underwater scuttling
like the desire for lunch,
a punishment as bourgeois
as obsessional anal neurosis
becoming a grey schizoid
a demon in catalonia
a the museum of doubt
unmeek foreign haircut & the soul
of a hard man, a doctor
as a potential perpetrator
a flash pan hunter, writing
short letter – long farewell
on a live love of Swans
leaving it said
‘who is that angry little guy?’

Alexander Kell image


xxxiii. Falcor

for it is the muppet babies
who make the muppets
look Chinese

how shall one curl teeth?
bun hair? how will we learn to queue
without legs?

our ears are fabric, our hearts
rubber, it’s valentine’s day
everyday, in gulag 14

Alexander Kell image


xxxiv. the thin blue line between front of house &  back of house

short devil
o how I often want to bite my fingers off
when attending Events I must attend
that I hesitated to attend

my inner race, my struggle (translated)
my emotional poetry reading & racing
I’m pregnant, inseminated while winning
every rugby match that has ever taken place

so tired, in pajamas, with a boy
how he bites my clitoris, I believe a bear trap
is a forceful face in shadowy water
you tall devil, I

Alexander Kell image


About thepluralexperiment

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