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Kevin Brazil
Kevin Brazil is a writer and critic who lives in London. His writing has appeared in Granta, The White Review, the London Review of Books, the Times Literary Supplement, Art Review, art-agenda, Studio International, and elsewhere. He is writing a book about queer happiness.

Articles Available Online


Interview with Sianne Ngai

Interview

October 2020

Kevin Brazil

Interview

October 2020

Over the past fifteen years, Sianne Ngai has created a taxonomy of the aesthetic features of contemporary capitalism: the emotions it provokes, the judgements...

Essay

Issue No. 28

Fear of a Gay Planet

Kevin Brazil

Essay

Issue No. 28

In Robert Ferro’s 1988 novel Second Son, Mark Valerian suffers from an unnamed illness afflicting gay men, spread by...

ADVICE FROM BENJO CORTEZ GALLERY OWNER, CHELSEA THE RED CAT, NEW YORK, 2AM    When I feel something It doesn’t show I got rid of the signs With injections in the forehead I can tell you where to go But not anywhere My eyes got fucked up in Milan Some bitch Can you see the scar?   Keep your skin perfect Put these SkinCeuticals on   Every day Each morning           And I swear   Vitamin B5 Gel Serum 10 Notre Coeur           That one twice a day Daily Moisture           Do that daily Tinted SPF5O, Dead Sea Live Dark Room, RV5, Eska Formula Swallow aloe vera Are you writing this down?   And only eat soup You can put anything in it But only soup   I lost nearly everything   My whole body   And then now Well, now I’m eating this cream mousse It’s all back But that was because of Massimo He disappeared   This was before James Before James I only dated architects           Which Massimo wasn’t He was a model But up until then Architects only He kept saying Massimo kept saying You only want me because I am not an architect Which was true And I told him it was true Otherwise I would date an architect I’m an honest person You should always be honest   But he disappeared I hurt easily He knew this   Now I have James Yes, he’s very young But it’s because he has good skin, He uses all those creams   I used to get jealous But he’s good Knows how not to hurt people His brother just died So he knows           But once He was in a restroom in a club And I was unsure He was in there a long time I knocked, and went away Or pretended I was watching from the sink Looking for signs in the mirror But I was quiet Then I came back, or didn’t because I didn’t go away But I knew he was not in there alone And there was this guy I’d seen him looking at James And so after a while I made James open the door and he was In there Alone   Massimo disappeared though Back to Milan He was from Milan I tracked him down We went to therapy It was at that point Massimo admitted he knew how to hurt me and Sometimes Did it on purpose That’s when I realised Massimo was not a good person I didn’t want to talk anymore But we were always at the therapist Because I had set it up like that And Massimo kept on talking For weeks Until the therapist had to stop him What about Benjo, she said What does Benjo think?       PLEDGE DRIVE   Weightless beside his possessions In bags bound To

Contributor

March 2018

Kevin Brazil

Contributor

March 2018

Kevin Brazil is a writer and critic who lives in London. His writing has appeared in Granta, The White Review, the London...

Interview with Terre Thaemlitz

Interview

March 2018

Kevin Brazil

Interview

March 2018

In the first room of Terre Thaemlitz’s 2017 exhibition ‘INTERSTICES’, at Auto Italia in London, columns of white text ran across one wall. Thaemlitz...

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fiction

October 2014

The Trace

Forrest Gander

fiction

October 2014

 La Esmeralda, Mexico   She knocked on the bathroom door.   ‘Can I come in to shower?’   ‘En...

Art

July 2014

Operation Paperclip

Naomi Pearce

Patrick Goddard

Art

July 2014

‘I began at this point to feel that politics was not something “out there” but something “in here” and of...

poetry

September 2011

First Blimp

Joshua Trotter

poetry

September 2011

Removing colour from my thoughts, I formed a winter ball. I threw it. The dead were uncounted. There was...

 

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