About the book
The prose poems in I Can See The Lights are earthy and raw, but also incredibly sensitive. More than one of them could bring you to tears. Characters are vividly brought to life, and stark but warm environments evoked in a down to earth, yet almost painterly manner by Russ Litten’s uncompromising voice. Tales of home, of un-belonging, of strife at sea; of a northern city’s beating heart, told in a mesmeric, stripped-down tone: this collection is a work of understated genius.
I Can See the Lights is available to pre-order now and will be released by Wild Pressed Books February 10th 2020 – Amazon
I Can See the Lights excerpt
OFF TO BEER OFF
I’m off to beer-off, d’yer want owt? I’m off to beer-off in a bit. If yer want owt getting write us a list if yer want cigs or skins or goodies or milk or a bottle of plonk, a few cans, some vodka, a box of matches, a note from the doctor saying please let me stay in bed for a week I’ve been drinking for ten days flat and now I can’t speak so write down your list while I’m getting me coat, have a good think about what your heart needs the most, a treehouse, a rocket, a place in the sun, a gold mine, an extended life time, get me a bag for life pass me a kitchen knife I’m off to beer off d’yer want owt?
I’m off to beer-off, d’yer want owt? I’m off to off beer-off after this, for a blast of cold air, and one off the Oliver Twist, a siren, a signal, an eighteen-carat diamond dropped on the deck, digging for treasure in the snow – someone fell down a gap in the system down there – mind how you go. I know a shortcut down a tenfoot, there’s a handy mattress if you need a quick lie down – there’s a fine layer of powder on the ground and everything looks pale blue and beautiful under this light – sharp shadows loom in the peripheries, I forgot the list, I can’t tell me left from me right, I’ll strike out into the cold dark night – I’m off to beer off, d’yer want owt?
I’m off to beer-off, d’yer want out? I’m off to beer-off real soon. I’m not frightened of clowns or kids on paper rounds or Herbert sherbet with his bag of kali. I’m gonna rinse the till when she reaches for the wine gonna take back what’s rightfully mine all them nights passing over chunks of corn for sorrowful mornings after joyful nights, May the dark gods of Boulevard forgive me, even sullen eyed vampires deserve their semi-human rights, there’s things out there you would not believe, pass me a kitchen knife to slide up my sleeve, I’m getting wrapped up, it’s bitter out, I’m off to beer-off, d’yer want out?
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