THE HOUSE OF ZABKA

My name is Marcus Slease. Some people say sleeze. I am used to that. But really it is s+lease. Like leasing a car and adding an s.

My poetry and fiction is in love with poets like Eileen Myles and Bernadette Mayer and Frank O' Hara and Ted Berrigan and Ron Padgett. Also Philip Whalen and some of Jack Kerouac. Both my fiction and poetry is in love with Richard Brautigan and also quite a lot of Russian absurdism and French and Spanish and Polish and American surrealism. Yeah surrealism! There is always more. There is never enough.

My latest book of poetry is RIDES (2014). Rides has a special mission. This is one of them:



Some other books:

Spanish Fork SPANISH FORK (Country Music 2014)

Mu (so) Dream (Window) from Poor Claudia. Written while living in Seoul South Korea in 2006.
MU (Dream) SO (Window)


My recently finished novella is called Never Mind the Beasts. It is a memoir of magical travel.

islandharmony asked: RE: from Tiny Creatures. My Novella in progress) I REALLY ENJOYED THIS STORY. I REMEMBER MAKING THOSE AS A CHILD WITH SOME SORT OF ISLAND SEEDS THAT YOU COULD FIND IN THE JUNGLE. WE NEVER THOUGHT TO PAINT THEM.. AND I ENDED UP BEING AN ARTIST WHO IS ALL ABOUT COLOR... GO FIGURE. THANKS FOR THE GREAT STORY!

Thanks so much!! I have been trying to add color in my little flat in east London. It gets dreary. Very. So interesting you played that game as a child too. Love the work on your tumblr!!! Love all that color and energy!!!!!!!! Big time. MISS IRVA’S FISH FRY, JUST BETWEEN FRIENDS. YES!!

kboyink asked: It's ok with me if you'd like to use my images provided you ask first and include a credit. k

So sorry about that!!! I will of course do so. Can’t remember where I grabbed this via tumblr reblogging. Can you tell me (is it Kerry?) and I will put due credit on the image. Just checked your tumblr. Love your work!!!

 
Image from Kerry at http://kboyink.tumblr.com/ask
(from my new Novella in progress)

I spray sea salt in my hair. I put my hair under my Chuck cap for half a day. It comes out stingy and wavy. There is no sea here. There are trees. The trees have lost their leaves and have turned into skeletons. They are skeletons forever. No one has the key to understanding why. No one can make them right again. The trees are bean poles. We climb them in early fall to get to larger trees. The larger trees have spiky fruit and we shake the spiky fruit to the ground. The spiky fruit hides a shiny nut and we string the nuts and paint them the colours of the different planets orbiting our suns. Then we play battle of the planets. We swing the planets on the string of our shoelaces and hit the other planets. We swing one planet into another. When the planet cracks in half it is over. You count how many victories you planet has and call it by it that name. Along with its colour. I once had purple planet 18. Kevin had orange planet 30. There was a kid with black planet 180. He was a legend. I never met him. They say he painted his nut with a special chemical. The chemical makes nuts live forever. But they are only rumours. No one knows about the black chemical. No one knows anything. We only have wild rumours and the rumours are supposed to make us feel better about the invasions.

 

Image from Kerry at http://kboyink.tumblr.com/ask

(from my new Novella in progress)

I spray sea salt in my hair. I put my hair under my Chuck cap for half a day. It comes out stingy and wavy. There is no sea here. There are trees. The trees have lost their leaves and have turned into skeletons. They are skeletons forever. No one has the key to understanding why. No one can make them right again. The trees are bean poles. We climb them in early fall to get to larger trees. The larger trees have spiky fruit and we shake the spiky fruit to the ground. The spiky fruit hides a shiny nut and we string the nuts and paint them the colours of the different planets orbiting our suns. Then we play battle of the planets. We swing the planets on the string of our shoelaces and hit the other planets. We swing one planet into another. When the planet cracks in half it is over. You count how many victories you planet has and call it by it that name. Along with its colour. I once had purple planet 18. Kevin had orange planet 30. There was a kid with black planet 180. He was a legend. I never met him. They say he painted his nut with a special chemical. The chemical makes nuts live forever. But they are only rumours. No one knows about the black chemical. No one knows anything. We only have wild rumours and the rumours are supposed to make us feel better about the invasions.

Pascal is in a chocolate bar. You could have the winning ticket!

p-a-logo:

Hurray! I’m completely pleased to say that the first sizeable piece of writing that grew from this tumblr has been published by the very amazing zimZalla Avant Objects.

The first edition of Object 024, CHOCOHOLOCHISMO, a collection of poem cards in gold foil with a Willy Wonka Style wrapper, sold out on the first day. Included in the edition was one Golden Ticket to win a limited edition print.

The plan for this blog is that I will end up with some form of novel at some (probably very distant) point in the future, meanwhile this zimZalla text sprang from the negative spaces of the opening of that planned novel, and demanded a life of its very own.

A small section of the text was originally published in the zine ‘Inside my head my dog’s a bear’ from Stinky Bear Press, a micro press and reading series that I run with poets Sarah Crewe and Linus Slug.

Tom Jenks at zimZalla is planning a second edition (with, I believe, another Golden Ticket) so if you’re interested just click here for the website. Thanks.

TOTALLY LOVED THIS. JUST WHAT I NEEDED ON CLOUDY DAY IN EAST LONDON!! 

incandescens:

HI GUYS

if u are feeling lonely i will read u poetry

welcome 2 the first edition of brittany’s poetry hour!!!

poems included: 
brandon scott gorrell - don’t feel like i can maneuver this ‘copying tao lin’ problem anymore (2:14)
(muumuuhouse.com/bsg.poetry4.html)

mira gonzalez - i can read a novel out loud while you lay on my floor with your head in my lap and we can feel happy because we are touching each other and i am using my voice and we don’t have to think about global climate change or death (3:46)
(shabbydollhouse.com/i-can-read-a-novel)

shinji moon - the water cycle (6:12)
(commovente.tumblr.com/post/38136901551/falling-in-love-with-you-was-a-kind-of-melting)

michael ondaatje - light (7:59)

heiko julien - some chapters from ‘am i cool’ & chap 7 of ‘i am ready to die a violent death (14:09)
(scribd.com/doc/94961731/am-i-cool)
(scribd.com/doc/102952623/I-Am-Ready-To-Die-A-Violent-Death)

some bullshit by yours truly (21:25)

aaaaaaaand
walt motherfuckin’ whitman - third part of ‘song of myself’ (24:41)

count the number of times i say ‘um’ or ‘alright’ or ‘so yeah’ - I WILL WORK ON THIS NEXT TIME I REALIZE I SOUND WAY TOO PROFESSIONAL THIS IS NOT HOW I NORMALLY AM EVER I DO NOT KNOW HOW TO EXIST IN THE REAL WORLD

I AM SORRY IF I BORED YOU TO TEARS

thanks 2 all of these lovely poets y’all are wonderful
and thanks 2 muumuu house & shabby doll house yr wonderful too
NEXT EDITION WILL BE BETTER I PROMISE
I ALSO HAVEN’T SHOWERED IN TWO DAYS
B

RIDES »

“He is searching for the Holy Grail and she has a map to the last known location of the Holy Grail.
He’s searching for the Holy Grail and she has a cousin who supposedly knows a guy who says he knows where the Holy Grail is.
He’s searching for the Holy Grail and she has little Holy Grail-shaped pupils.
He’s searching for the Holy Grail and she’s a trapped cricket too small to leap out of the bottom of the Holy Grail.
He’s searching for the Holy Grail and she’s standing in front of the Holy Grail, smiling up at him impishly, as behind her the Holy Grail imbues the fringes of her body and face with soft gold light.
He’s searching for the Holy Grail and she just swallowed the Holy Grail whole.
She’s the Holy Grail but he’s searching for Atlantis.”

– Romantic Comedies, Mark Leidner (via pleasingthings)