Sin Cycle in E·ratio

Screenshot 2020-01-04 at 15.11.20
Detail of Infant Sorrow by William Blake

Happy new year!  I already have enormous amounts to be thankful for this year.  Chief of these is the editorship of Gregory Vincent St. Thomasino, the editor of E·ratio Postmodern Poetry Journal based in New York. Gregory’s own work, as I have written about here is extraordinary, and challenging and should be explored.  

E·ratio itself (and the 29th issue I find myself in) is a fascinating place to visit. The magazine is crammed full of bracing work in a postmodern idiom from writers around the world. It is one of the best magazines I know.  I have been a regular visitor ever since I found the site a few years ago.

I had suspected my 24 poem sequence Sin Cycle was always going to be hard to place, especially in the UK — and so it proved. Luckily for me Gregory was happy to risk giving a platform to the unreliable, raw and disreputable voice of this sequence.

The eight line poems in this sequence emerged naturally and quickly, and I was lucky enough that three poets I greatly respect, Robin Houghton, Charlotte Gann and Sarah Barnsley read these poems as they started to take shape.  I took a good deal of advice and I should thank them again here for their brains, friendship and support.

William Blake’s Songs of Innocence and Experience lurked in the back of my mind when I was writing Sin Cycle, and the sequence starts with a four line quote from Infant Sorrow.

I was struck by the realisation that I had spent much of my writing life subconsciously wanting to be seen as nice. On some level I realised I had always wanted people to think how clever, or sensitive or aesthetically evolved I was. In these poems I abandoned any idea of smelling of roses or of people thinking well of me. I found it very liberating.

Sin Cycle
Sin Cycle in E·ratio

 




4 responses to “Sin Cycle in E·ratio”

  1. Envy the support you have had but also admire the the fact you abandoned the idea needing to be thought of as clever or sensitive. Our marionettes have always been useful for turning the other cheek. x

    1. Hi Ann — yes having people you trust to look at your work was marvellous. There was a bit of a mental hurdle first in actually asking for help of course. Love what you say about marionettes… taking on a mask or another persona can be completely liberating too. Best wishes Peter x

  2. I remember you publishing the one about the ants earlier. Glad you continued to write in this style. I like what you said about letting go of the need to appear noble and clever. I think the hero, whose moral high ground is often unrealistic and unsustainable, can be more repulsive than one who stands before us honestly, warts and all. There’s something cathartic in that for the reader and, I suspect, for the writer as well.

    1. Thanks for your comment Ryan — it certainly felt freeing for me. The noble hero can become insufferable after a while.


Leave a comment