Not Life As We Know It
AC Evans
UNCANNY VALLEY
AC Evans
Ecstatic
submission a blunt weapon but it doesn’t matter.
Instrument
supplier almost human ‘delight’ is the only word replacing missing oxygen
breaking in suddenly feels innocent as kicking a ball around a coaxial cylinder
we suspect the curse of rotten luck in the pathological sense, a developmental
abnormality. How long have you got?
Light
conversation about plant fluid failure mechanisms. Solar cells weekly to your
hotel room where everything you see, hear, feel and think is controlled specifically
on demand, by voluntary agreement thanks to ‘uncanny valley’ effect magnetic
maps robot faces no strangers to getting bogged down – or a run for their
money. “Means this is no longer the case, will boost resistance slightly
forward kissing device can visualise clusters of information phosphorescent
rainforests dominated by high towers improve intimacy, enhancing bubblegum
fun”. A hideous atonal nursery rhyme eerily futuristic. Have you got how long?
It doesn’t end there.
Techniques based on a smooth plastic casing outlive universe regular
repeating patterns due to contact with additional elastic boundary state, a
grip that is firm but gentle. You can say it's only recently (sad though it is)
as we slip through a doorway into an antique coffee bar where we lounge around
using the technology at our disposal like the microbes in your home. True only
in the past few years constantly coming into contact with a sorry state of
affairs. Collateral damage like social evidence for the record or a Stone Age equivalent
of celebrity culture perhaps they were just having a lark. You got long have
you? Drop talking eerily futuristic enhancing death and hideous atonal nursery
of rhymes and ecstatic submission.
This tangle far from random now surrounded by artificial
pharmaceuticals and other complex products of rational design. We don’t
understand the details, the chemical dance, the pros and cons from illness and
death inducing disgust with subtle influences the hairdresser was girlishly
thrilled and the sparks fly from day one. Exactly what it is she wants, this
blow wave alien from LV-426, savage celebrations single mum takes on a
transparent cube comedy sequel set at a chic high class New York party in a
partial vacuum perhaps. Long got how have you?
So, looking back or looking ahead. From Toulouse to limbo too cool to
calypso deadpan delivery a spine tingling tale something unexpected and
unsettling a poignant verse an old enemy plunges briskly into the action a
disguised morality lesson with emotional complications discovered their
partners were having an affair in the same plane crash. Have you?
Many things reeking if they so choose, when feeling for instance a pale
shadow affecting every thing long term. Power hungry sculptures further north
capture pages turning in the confessional all first rate equipment and support
agreed leading to fight against passion where they are still having problems
even now winging their way to us polluting our waterways, climbing mountains,
dancing and dining out?
ABOUT AC EVANS
Poetry Is Radar
AC Evans
describes his art and poetry as a form of Realism, yet he cultivates the
subversive potential of the bizarre and the grotesque.
Influenced by
Gothic, the dark-side of Romanticism, fin-de-siècle
Decadence and Aestheticism, AC relishes
the iconoclasm of Dada, the absolute non-conformism of Surrealism, and the
immediacy of Existentialism and Pop. He regards all these as points of
departure none as a destination –we live in a post-Pop, post-avant-garde world
of tabloid impressionism and amplified hyper-culture; the heroism of our modern
life. Poetry is Radar.
Born near Kingston-Upon-Thames
in 1949, AC Evans lived in South London until 1963 when he moved to Essex and
co-founded the semi-legendary Neo-Surrealist Convulsionist Group in 1966. In
1973 he moved back to London. His drawings, collages, reviews, essays,
translations, poetry and stories have appeared in numerous small press
magazines in the UK and abroad, and he is a regular contributor to Nox, Stride,
Monomyth, The Supplement, Midnight Street, Inclement, Neon Highway and
International Times.
Collaborative work has included several projects with Stride’s Rupert Loydell,
the poem sequence Space Opera was made into a digital video by Michelle
Martin/OS2 and shown at the onedotzero3
Festival, at the ICA, London, in May 1999. The film of Space Opera has been
used for the last 5 years as part of the lecture/seminar on fragmentation as
part of the Craft of Writing module, a first year core unit at Falmouth University.
