Bridget Penney was born in Edinburgh and is now based in Brighton. Her book publications are Honeymoon with Death and Other Stories (1991, Polygon), Index (2008, Book Works), and Licorice (2020, Book Works). Stories and non-fiction have appeared in print and online magazines: among them gorse, Snow lit rev, and 3:AM Magazine. She is founder and co-editor of Invisible Books, publishing innovative poetry and prose through the 1990s with occasional manifestations since. Currently she is guest-editor for Book Works' new series, Interstices.
Athena B.
Fishersgate, Sussex. December 2019.
I have been turned to stone
by my own shadow.
Rough enough justice?
Medusa laughs at me.
Pissed And Fallen Over,
both my arms broken.
I must be dreaming.
The weather doesn't help.
Habit of speech, if I
could craft words into
stanzas, rueing the
typewriter I threw out.
Her severed head rolling
its eyes, snakes knotted
beneath her chin. No
muscle cuirass has wings.
It produced a sound as
from a myriad
lorries. Imbricate
bosom plate, my girdle,
twin cranes crossing their arms.
In my angry moods:
Removal without
authority of an-
y oil OR removal
without colouring
or marking of oil:
‘Like fucking Alien
bursting out of her chest’.
After-effects of
ejaculation
crack into a scaly
film on my stomach. Dear
valued customer,
how did we do? A
hundred tassels of gold.
*
Spouting Homer in Greek
doesn't prove you un-
derstood it. With her
hands full, (ironic)
and, born fully armoured
Clearly a multi-
tasker, she is the
companion of heroes
Athena the Goddess
of wisdom, craft and
war adds classical
charm, not in some slutty
off-the-shoulder number.
There's little doubt she
would be a talking
point in any garden.
*
Flowingly, with feeling.
Prosopopeia
puts words in the mouths
of the dead and absent.
C.C.T.V. ghosts us.
The air is alive
with images in
high resolution. ‘We
would leave secret objects
we had been given
in the dead of night
and take from the tunnel
other hidden things: not
even your priestess
knew what these objects
were,’ Medusa says.
‘When i was just seven,
i was dew-carrier,
then at ten, i learned
to bake bread, then i wore
the saffron robe and danced
as a bear before
my menses started,
and finally, having
become a lovely lass
with a necklace of
dried figs, i was raped
by a drunken sailor,
god, whatever, and you
were merciless, A-
thena’. Same old, snake
tressed grrrl. Our Queen's elec-
tric seabeds out there we
must guard against whom?
Napoleon? Tun-
nels run from the redoubt.
*
From subtle to sassy
we got you covered.
I hate this lipstick,
it is very sheer with
great big chunks of glitter
that feel grainy on.
It looks great with a
smoky eye, or just
Glass of milk, broken
blonde, venerate, de-
ceiving or fraudu-
lent, falls down or gives way,
and we just wanted you
to know you are help-
ing other people.
Hello, happy birthday.
Dreams at the bottom of
the street; hidden book
room. Greetings, fish-tailed
nags, you, Sthenios
and Skylla, (secretive
creatures who do not
seek out human con-
tact) make a commanding
Say ‘I'm on a donkey’.
When we had witches
we used to burn them,
but, in Spain, they sent them
to Ibiza. Enter
this 16 digit
code to earn yourself.
Three corners, no right turn,
yes, my lack of sense of
altitude & scale
is remarkable.
The radar horizon
is approximately
seven per cent fur-
ther away. In air
and sea travel, a naut-
ical mile = one min-
ute of arc round an
Earth meridian.
I did not say Port Said.
*
Simple polygonal
structure; the word is
paving. Bramble or
dandelion by my feet.
Neoclassical urn,
antiqu’d patina.
Cable box under
our U.P.V.C. bay;
star lights up our neighbour's.
Recycling, rubbish.
Fully helmeted;
from my armpit sticks out.
Lift me onto a stack
of pallets, a child's
plastic play kitchen.
Horizon climbs higher,
no privacy veil. Bare
bones of the flower-
ing cherry, pruned
in vase shape for sunlight
A location that needs
no beauty filter.
Complexity is
the new reality.
*
The magic mineral
of the middle ages
combined with portland
cement; fireproof, ratproof
and practically in-
destructible. A
series of roofs that
look like a staircase pushed
Prefab, chainlink, cement.
All kinds of windows.
Dormer, eyebrow, port-
hole. Bricks stacked on pallets
LBC common brick;
high quality clay
facing brick suitable
for all applications.
Soft red imperial
handmade brick. Concrete
common brick; Thermal
Mass & Sound reduction
Class A Solid Blue Brick;
precise square-edged smooth
brick conforming to.
With great compressive strength.
Frostproof, a special mix
of aggregate which
is enhanced by time
and the weather. Handmade.
*
Do you pay attention
to monuments and
the stories they tell?
Do you think the history
you've been taught needs challeng-
ing? Have you found out
something you didn't
know today? Athene
noctua bobs its head
up and down when al-
armed. Their wonderful,
frowning expressions and
quirky behaviour
makes it a pleasure
to observe them,
whether it be watching
them sunbathe on a warm
summer's afternoon
or hunting at dusk.
Our flower garden! House
clearance, coffee roasters.
Chrysalis Beauty
release your inner
butterfly. A little
drop of heaven. Scan this
magic lantern slide.
Sharp booze on your breath
masked by cherry vape. Switch
signs, striking displays ltd.
Metal finishers.
Flamenco, a shade
above. All cat’s removed
from 4 x 4s. Smoother,
softer, richer. You’re
amazing. You’re a-
mazing. Their own brand
has so much sugar, my
teeth hurt when I bite
into it. Arm her
with panoply & hel-
met. She’s an astronaut.
She’s just back from the
moon. Draw her along
in a chariot. I
am ’m crafting to you
this message. These girls
fight with stones and sticks
to honour Athena?
*
In the teeth of the gale.
High viz clothing must
be worn at all times.
This week’s steals: mango, pine-
Apple, persimmon. What’s
Galileo for?
Free civilian
use of U.S. Global
Positioning Systems
is a privilege
that may be withdrawn
at any time. Based on
absolute location,
relative movement
and time transfer. Safe-
ty helmets must be worn.
*
My gut stuffed with micro-
plastic. Hair braided
with cable ties. Tin
can hat, eyes painted a-
wake. If I were pumice,
right, then I would fuck-
ing float until tho-
roughly trempay, form new
islands after the e-
ruption, not so hard
on the Mohs scale you
can’t, god. Venus my
sister: from her breasts springs
milk. From her cut throat
blood gushes. Made just
down the way, her subjects
elevate, nourished by
her labour. Slavers,
artists, pop royals.
‘Jealous,’ she said. Shut up.
*
Shrug one arm of any
well-fitting garment,
(not a lifejacket).
Underarm darts, cut on
the bias, that dress will
it keep out the cold?
Collar and cuffs, wigs,
breeches, undies. Stockings
suspender belt string vest
T or polo shirt
sateen, neoprene,
buttons mother-of-pearl
If you enter water
unexpectedly,
relax and float on
your back to catch your breath.
Cold water shock only
lasts a minute. Try
to get hold of some-
thing that will help you float.
If you feel the current:
How do I turn my
trousers into a
flotation device? Half
a pint of rip-tide; no
mobile phone signal.
Please return my bo-
dy to the place of my
*
Not all ads are the same.
Ads seen here fund your
local services.
Log in now to tell us
what you think the song is.
Aegis fake snake pat-
tern the breath of fish?
Oxygen in the wa-
ter will not save you. In
summer, the harbour's
western arm a hot-
spot for Mackerel; Black
‘Skimmer’ Bream; Flounder; Sole;
Plaice. The tunnel has
not been immune from
political bashing.
*
Naked in the warm, brack-
ish, perishable.
Harry read Sean’s poem
on the sea back to it.
Never can ask him now
whether it’s Betty
Davis’ turquoise chain.
I feel down this morning;
we have made a terrible
mistake. As long as
we remain vigil-
ant. These are the wrong words.
*
People see the ships come
and go but there is
a lot of process.
I have supremacy
of the terminal and
all areas around.
Red valerian,
sea kale, starry clover.
N.C.I. watchkeepers
provide the eyes and
ears along the coast.
Spot, Plot, Report, Respond.
The true horizon can
only be observed
when it lies on the
sea’s surface. Harbour Cam,
meander of footprints,
a drone’s eye view of
sunrise, strobing the
corrugated metal
hut. Early morning folk,
out with their dogs, throw
shadows, steam & smoke.
Longshore drift, corrected.
*
Woke up one morning and
I couldn’t do the
splits. Got my ear pierced,
got a spray tan, five days
off work. Thin and angry,
I rage ALL UPPER-
CASE my chaotic
thought. Scribbling the air, I
Spread the love like butter,
I tell you. The door
is open wide. It’s
like a tardis inside,
like an Aladdin’s cave.
Vast array and they
are lovers of nat-
ure so i always take
An atomic fountain
is a cloud of atoms,
cooled to absolute
zero, agitated
by lasers. Weightless in
the toss (if you could
see) they resemble
energetic droplets.
Absolute time does not
exist. They count time
at different rates
and so they diverge, skew.
*
Halloumi breakfast; three
pounds seventy-five.
Mint tea in Arabic,
fully recyclable cups.
Mushrooms, always mushrooms,
I've gone round the world.
One Glastonbury,
everyone who bought one
of those black candles shaped
like a hand in a
rubber glove had some-
thing bad happen. Shove my
pound up my arse. It was,
like, my first day in
year seven. Between
Scylla and Charybdis.
*
Attempts to cross the Chan-
nel in small boat to
be an infrequent
phenomenon by Spring
2020. The sea
is a mass of dir-
ections. We Swim or
we Sink. The wealth over-
floweth its banks, and changes.
Can you resist our
indulgent offer?
The heavens open up.
*
She sells seashells is an
example of what?
T-shirts, postcards, cute
unicorn inflatable,
The seething sea ceaseth
thus. The seething sea
sufficeth us. This
thing just rose up in me
Forces! Forces! - which can't
be changed. The trouble
with our age is that
it wishes to pretend
a whole lot of things are
not there. Athena
cosplay, truly a
supermarket of sym-
bols. My shipwrecked namesake
continues history
on by serving the
finest fresh fish‘n’chips.
Acknowledgements.
Thanks are due to Harry (from Canterbury), whom I sat next to at Horseplay’s memorial event for
Sean Bonney held at The Black Dove, Brighton on 28/11/2019. Also to Mandy. And Pete.
Kara Walker’s Fons Americanus, the Hyundai 2019 commission for the Tate’s Turbine Hall, was
constructed at the Millimetre workshop in Portslade, five minutes’ walk from Athena B. My text
incorporates words from material written by Kara Walker to accompany her exhibition.
The text also incorporates words spoken by Ian Hamilton Finlay in the course of an interview
conducted by Christopher McIntosh and Katherine Kurs. Gardens of the Gods: Myth Magic and
Meaning, I.B. Tauris, 2005.
Special thanks to all my anonymous contributors.
Commenti