Hugely pleased to have five poems about my perverse fiancee at The Licentiam, a zine for erotic experimental work .
Here is a link to the blog of my brilliant fiancee Jennifer Chesler. There are old excerpts from novels in progress. She shall, however, be writing again soon, so new awesome work will be available there.
Three from forthcoming book in Full of Crow. Thanks to Lynn Alexander.
As previously planned, a book is due soon from Craig Podmore’s Antiseptic Press, Forever Emma. (I sort of changed my mind about quitting writing.
Here are some blurbs and then the cover.
Forever Emma is easily McLean’s best endeavor so far: while encapsulating the atheistic manifestations in his prior works (ghost death blood corpse absence distance) these elements are breathed to life, as to living characters, through valid love for his Emma. Love is not a neutral topic, and David makes certain that it stays that way. Emma is alive, yet full of resplendent contradiction, conflict, confusion. Time is beaten down, means nothing at all except something that the love David writes of destroys. There is nothing past touch, the poet writes, & I say, as an avid follower of David’s work, that to beat time down, to make love immortal, is the poet’s endgame.
Carolyn Srygley-Moore, author of Ode to Horatio and other saviors & Miracles of the blog: a series
In this collection, David McLean has hit the full maturity of his poetry: a deep skin awareness/memory of every touch of mind and body. Love in the desperate chaos/shit surrounding McLean and his Emma. He/It swallows us and spits us out again, ever-questioning and re-reading. I love this collection.
Reuben Woolley, author of skins & dying notes, editor of I am not a silent poet and The Curly Mind
Mark Hartenbach – author of the lost bastard chronicles & bring me the head of Marko X
Stripped to the bone, we find a love story — witnessing not only a fusion of selves but also a coming apart and a reassembling. We’re presented with a thirsty all-consuming love — a love beyond absences, a love beyond even death.
To quote McLean from the poem “she is insect”:
…she is madness in my disgraceful veins, the changeless divine that is Demonica the eternal dressed in words & torture; i am here to worship her, i am hers to murder
In the midst of his more graphic images of blood and flesh and scarred skin, McLean offers up images of sheer beauty that linger. The one that will stay with me for the longest time appears in the poem “gray.”
it is gray here & i love you – as if every child everywhere were playing a trumpet & nothing would ever happen again except you and i touching
Poetry doesn’t get much better than that.
Barbara H. Moore, Author of Dancing On Broken Glass
Misti Rainwater, author of Bullshit Rodeo
Michael Mc Aloran
Editions du Cygne 2017
book review by David McLean
I think that Mc Aloran would agree with my assessment of humanity that I developed from Homer Simpson “People do things because they are stupid &die because they deserve to” – there is carrion everywhere: people die so often that it is (almost) not even funny anymore.
The best aspect of Mc Aloran is the gloom. There is no trace of the inability that the later (& better) Becket regrets as he notices that words do not work, they just lie on the page & suck. This is because what Mc Aloran is portraying is the fact that meaning is not there, life sucks because it is meat that fails to mean.
When we die we will have failed to speak, we will have failed to mean, we will have failed to matter. This has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with modern society or any sort of political criticism, that’s just the way it is. We are left with “speech lack of claim/ words dead foreign ice encasing fathom untimely said”
It helps to be mad, it helps to be drunk. Buy this book. It’s available from the usual culprits & the publishers here.
Fall/winter issue of The Stray Branch due soon. Work by me in it thanks to editor Debbie Berk. For now there’s a featured poem by me here on the first page, you need to scroll down a bit. Illustration by Debbie there, it kicks ass.