Marianne Morris was born in Toronto in 1981, and raised in London. She studied English Literature at Newnham College, Cambridge and is now undertaking research for a PhD at Dartington (University College Falmouth). Together with Jow Lindsay and Jonathan Stevenson she founded Bad Press in 2002. Her published poetry includes: Tutu Muse (Fly By Night Press, 2008); A New Book From Barque Press, Which They Will Probably Not Print (Barque Press, 2006); with Bad Press: Cocteau Turquoise Turning and Fetish Poems (2004); Gathered Tongue (2003); Memento Mori (2003); Poems in Order (2002).
from Fetish Poems
Woke up two sheets in a head wind hair gone
brave white. Kill for relax festering tension in
you appeal to me better judgement sex disturbs.
Under no sky of eagle white or arrow his aim is
poor. She knows her role, no play. Let it die,
when it comes back you will dream recognition.
The battered bird appearing can you harness on
energetic; run to kill and fetish hot fist. Fur wrist.
Makes wire from fire, water-dancing in the cold.
Who for done for the glory vision, nice painted him
stank. Shared eyes in slit face cold and hard furred.
Bristole probably too believe afraid. In the photograph
endless admissions, the sickened preservation, who
both deem honour on fish heads, accepted. Sour when
the re-writ. Laced the fetish with semen. Deserves
admiration, uncounted, luckless, damned. Can I now
wish for the good hunt, or what I've stuck in mine
pullulate, morbid growths and pinned new shoots.
Full consequence of spring pulls up, counting losses
means murder after running pissing away. The deeply
not thought out idolatry of rite become religion. One
process echoing wrong another; Narcissus at his pail
of gay water, wanting suck and escape. What worded
fail, he knew in silence, both virgins without tongues.
Dressed him spoiled him victory needed nothing, and
she won away the thinness of reedy death, babbling.
Philomel had a tale to tell. Swallowed her tongue.
Listen to Marianne here
