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Eleanor Rees
Eleanor Rees is the author of four collections of poetry. Her most recent is The Well at Winter Solstice (Salt, 2019) and her fifth collection Tam Lin of the Winter Park, in which these poems will appear, is forthcoming from Guillemot Press in May, 2022. Eleanor is senior lecturer in creative writing at Liverpool Hope University and lives in Liverpool.

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Three Poems

Poetry

April 2022

Eleanor Rees

Poetry

April 2022

ESCAPE AT RED ROCKS   I am the colour of the outside, a stillness moving like a winter tide, a new shoreline in formation,...

poetry

September 2012

Mainline Rail

Eleanor Rees

poetry

September 2012

Back-to-backs, some of the last, and always just below the view   a sunken tide of regular sound west...

Keith was not the songwriter Darren and Stewart wrote the songs Keith hit things, some of which were drums He came in one day with a song and nobody wanted to play it The song was the least of their problems They had signed with a label, so their music was used in adverts and that, it brought in some dosh, they were shameless rock sluts because the fans downloaded the songs for free Slutdom was not the issue The issue was that the contract would not let them do independent gigs Keith had had an argument with them because the Arctic Monkeys, look at the fucking Arctic Monkeys, why the fuck can’t we do what the fucking Arctic Monkeys, this being the capacity for inarticulate rage which had made him a drummer in the first   And Darren and Stewart, being songwriters, had talked and talked and talked and talked to the point that there were signatures on the contract   Then the inconceivable had happened which is that Thom Yorke sent an email inviting them to do a gig Keith said they should just do it, fuck the fucking contract but Darren and stewart   So then Keith was very quiet Never a good sign Given Keith’s known propensity to hit things other than drums So Darren said they would record the song       Keith tried to explain his concept and Darren and Stewart kept arsing about and then Sean the keyboardist sussed that it was an arsing about session and then Keith put down his sticks Darren, Stewart and Sean sussed that the beat was gone Keith, says Darren What the fuck Keith disengaged from the scaffolding of things that could be hit that made noise   He stood up he walked across the floor while Darren, Stewart and Sean varied the theme of   What the fuck He took the mic from Darren In addition to not being a songwriter Keith was not a singer he dragged the lyrics of the song over reluctant vocal chords and spat them into the mic fucking great man said Darren who did not want another guitar percussioned to subatomic particles against wall,

Contributor

August 2014

Eleanor Rees

Contributor

August 2014

Eleanor Rees is the author of four collections of poetry. Her most recent is The Well at Winter Solstice...

Crossing Over

poetry

September 2012

Eleanor Rees

poetry

September 2012

As he sails the coracle of willow and skins his bird eyes mirror the moon behind cloud. Spring tide drags west but he paddles...

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feature

September 2012

Existere: Documenting Performance Art

David Gothard

Jo Melvin

John James

Rye Dag Holmboe

feature

September 2012

The following conversation was held at the Institute of Contemporary Arts, London, in May 2012. The event took place...

Art

February 2014

Starting with a Bang: Hannah Höch and The First International Dada Fair

Daniel F. Herrmann

Art

February 2014

A spectre haunted the Lützow-Ufer – the spectre of Dadaism. It hung from the ceiling and peered down from the...

fiction

Issue No. 3

Fifteen Flowers

Federico Falco

TR. Janet Hendrickson

fiction

Issue No. 3

To Lilia Lardone Summer was ending. The air already smelled like smoke, but it still looked clear, sunny. The...

 

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