Brave New Word…

Section V from “nowhereon”, my forthcoming book from VoidFront Press, is now published in Issue #10 of Brave New Word

A review by David McLean of “stance light end” (Black Editions Press)

stance light end

Michael Mc Aloran
stance light end
Black Editions Press
Mc Aloran’s newest book resumes the breakage of syntax and rupture of language that characterizes his earlier works. The repetitive what obviously situates the book within ontology, in that it discusses the ontic (there is no meaning behind any of it). beings, as opposed to Being, are scumbags. Mc Aloran’s text attempts to ascribe them some axiological status, or pretends to, to these scumbag beings, then tells them to fuck off.  Weather, blood on the walls, glass, fingers, sunlight – all a bunch of cunts. Whereof, one assumes, the tendency to abstraction on his paintings.
wound till gift of speech reclaimed dead hence nothing of
till matters none…stance light end…
 The gift is the Es gibt. The giving of Being in beings through logos, better of dead. No posturing any more. The taint in the eye is the tain of the mirror, the black sun, that which is impenetrable and refuses transparency. We do not see what is, humans – again I use “we” out of sheer politeness – and this matters little or nothing, none matters, no one, it matters not an iota – already this here is absence & the final fucking outrage of speech and words is that the cocksuckers can survive our deaths and seem to express our selves that then shall be lacking. The point of the exercise is to rape syntax repeatedly until the meaning will be seen as through an ass darkly.
 …what to founder of where null abounds it not…what
whisper unto…what fleshed as it escapes…what cannot
frenzy lack…
Words do not serve, they become a vain statement. What is left is the vain gesture, the Potlatch frenzy that is writing without being fucking retarded. Mc Aloran is one of the few to do so.
You can get it here


The foreword by Chyna Blac to “stance light end”…

stance light end
…this text, ‘booque’, textLab®, intent of Michael Mc Aloran’s newest (or new or it eschews categorizations, representationisms) uses language as a vessel yet seemingly foremost to mirror the pastness, postness, of all. and this mere mirroring, which isn’t also so random as to render unintelligibility, has a lot of, yes, being there or even, when the case, being dead and never the divisiveness between the two was lesser. content, meaning, intent, semantics, linguistic characteristics, repetitionism, omittances, meant misspellings or uneven metaphor or whatever the fuck needed to distress a traditionalist poetology, it is all stuck upon this coral reef of lexicologic forms or deformations with partially contours. there are registers in the text and then there is a shift, radical or peripheric, which brusque cantilevers the whole reading and herewith, the mood of the readeuse or and readeur. radar. so the text is a vessel with which Mc Aloran (and reader) offer conspirationalist possibility to fuck up what is around us and suffuses us in viral critical loads the titers of which covariate with the density of language of his ‘book’, his text, his expenditure. medical metaphors do well with characterising Mc Aloran’s texts (and the art of other ‘modernists,postmodernists, postironic complexisists, postJazz imaginistes, postArt performers’) etcetera. these medico-esthetic, antiEsthetic-performist, societal-[trans]specietal, evenemential-social medial transit hubs seem as aptly represented in their leukemic-fractal-temporal-metabolisticmetaphysical-unoptimistical (Mists) yet mystical features all coming towards us as biomass beleaguered by such viral-technological-informational overload, critical mass, redundancy, entropy. Michael Mc Aloran seems to address this all however not in any scientific casus but in sheer masterful poetry, much in and abandoning radically Beckett, Malcolm Lowry, Thomas Hardy, Sylvia Plath and wider seen, Gertrude Stein, Margarite Duras, Alain Robbe-Grillet.
fingers upon cold glass…gazes in or out am…breath upon cold glass…of… traceless…a trace of this…what this am…no echo no not of…forgotten…yet echo of…as was before…so it was before having unremembered…yet no not of there…given …taking from or else of…of the all not a…white sound of…of static abounding yes or no…”
‘fingers upon cold glass’, the mindset is within the iciness of societal abandon whereas there is always the (futile but palpable) tactile interrelatedness. there is corporeality, carcass theory as gathered at the ‘BodyFarm’, and inmidst of this viscerality there hovers ‘unremembering’ as at least an instance to be part of what whirls around us. the repetitive denials of denials we already found in Adorno, the repetitiousness in Stein but here there is added modernity and fashionista/trashionista stream of motorizing skills in the writing, the reading optional.
Chyna Blac


You can get it here

Sketch #3


…what from in realms of…once forgotten ever a-bask in night whereof until…collapse of eye of lungs torn to shreds by the dogs of speech…shimmering…closed upon what cold waters to meld which or other climb till nothing ever stance light end…a feast a famine…stretch of null broken only by deprived locked under by the flesh of silence…ever-was before until where shadow beats as of the pulse in the skull of dreaming next till wind’s escapade…severed eclipse what sung from ever-long shadow of…defile it sacred no nothing of in the fleshed cold weight of desire a broken object a child’s toy a nothing a memory…a forgotten trace where once was never of the no not frozen as before where the closure lights of gleam rot down to the collapse…of bitter sting astringent atrophic closure of eye bound by light yet ever to flail in sicken all-all dredged… exposes the sun of laughter wiped clear a sheet of blank ice through which nothing can be revealed a…room a circuit wire subtle struxture of vein till overlay of broken blood a wall of flames as if to that whatever was…burned till disregard colors eradicated blank black waste nothing of closes the fist around the pulse beat rhythm…nothing less or other to observe a tourniquet of steel blessed of the absolve from weightless obsolete stance light end… stripping away the fluorescent nothing on of gilded skin where the lapse is of the here nor there in-dreaming next of non-being…some distance to eradicate where the razor teeth of excise burn black no forage ever of…in the stripped colossus of blind weight a frozen where sacrosanct is…the taste the withering hour a no not a breakage shattered of where what collapse nothing of the matter…no not was keloid collapse into where to having once bled sudden final ache of the once was no not ever blinded by sleep & prolapsed lock & the bind of shadow-like…ever where what in of this stance light end burrowing into whereof where collapse is blind meat sickened nauseous disregard…what of in that remarked upon drag drag of the hilt to follow through the canine of absolve was less than ever of…where taint is to of to waste subtle as a death knell a ripped solace ever if cold as once as was climate colorless a forgotten sun stitched closes birthing nothing but…where once was dim extol from the light the excess of nothing ever of closes the eyes the eyes snapped shut to re-stitch no not ever of…till speaketh what once a…stun tread a closure…a nothing more than…more than a nothing of stun closure tread stance light tread a filament a drift of locus where zero point ever-if cold depth regardless bitten flesh…all having as of this is merely a…sarcophagus tint & the blood astray in the bush what hand…nothing as of once before where hyenic cries deepen listless shadowing to meld throughout…dense the eye astray given to fail where retrospect no otherwise bedamned broken amulets & shattered stone nothing of till final as of if nothing more…shattering a of broken valves of echo-if collapse in the without…till what of it final a…forgotten ever-of until passage of final memory of…tourniquet of blessed steel an abort stripping asunder from lapse what lack to trace…it undone in the filigree moment whereof what pitch stitch of the redeem…base waste useless null a vast expanse of bound bones clutch for nothing ever…as if there ever…stance light end…of till what spillage closure of the wound relapse counter-colour never of in the flame that balms yet never solace ever…dry dry what of it till what part fraction weight of the +3 nor +1…denizen of shit where all wept is the closure tongue of absent lights…till nothing of was of the once more collision premise nothing of the spinal foreign final…warped limbs to carry out of which density of the rind the weight of the closure wound relapse uttered once more…retrospect no otherwise…crack a bone…till sudden disparage of… nothing fragrant of ill-spoken treasury…a dead hand calmed by the unwritten the unsaying the night of all unredeemed…eye falls a sunder eye is the wreckage of the long cold distance breaking upon as if to utterance…nothing of the callous taint in the eye peering inwardly forgotten abort long skull of dis-shadow bleed of the mark taken tryst of desire’s chalice…eye knows no longing of the central desire where color chase of vibrant meat is the…foreign as all as was aside cold spasm of weight lifted to the sky-hilt of tangential dreaming…as if unto or out of where mockery else breakage limb warp cold tongue of the warp wind hollow…exhales the shit of night tastes dim what of till nocturne bite what wind extol laughter all the while…viper sickness in the assassin concrete silhouette the naked tongue extends as if to say that it…stance light cold end of nowhere onwardly devoured as if to sicken where the fucking hour is of the long dusted shadow of to bleed where nothing weight…it or what no matter still…broken body fleshed what will…in the eye of what will shatter-long as long adrift in colors shaded from view some distance to tread…stance light end…obsolete…breakage night what of till follow on from unto nowhereon collapse eye dim vacant as of silhouette disregard…where nothing of in a traipse a colorization of acrid meat irredeem…stings just a little beknown what of in spasm lock listless to divide where or other than the vocal broken body of none of the divide…till carry on where nothing of burns just a little as of cool flame lock stun forage of divide whereof…echoes inwardly in the reek of speech unclaimed never of the other of than of the inwardly other than of bespoke cold colors the lightning clears the sky & is of void breakage scattered the light coating the flesh in a film of obsolete not a trace of…nothing fragment of ill-spoken travesty…dense white edge eradicated colourings breaking from marrow taint what syllabus…it is once & once only it is nothing claiming for the wreckage to follow…till die a little else worming into the rat of being…stillness to gather in corrupt light endless nothing of which till now & hereafter…broke bone stylus…piss for blood…dense wind to clear the night no not ever of…till all of the dead what spillage nectar of…in the night the whereof what will till closure next till then what forage ever if until now what spoken headless avowal nothing of to echo blind weight a trace of the devour shuddering in speech the teeth extracted closes the wound till gift of speech reclaimed dead hence nothing of till matters none…stance light end…    

“all null having” reviewed by David McLean

all null having
Michael Mc Aloran
Void Front Press
all null having is of language, words, extending meaningless where they are absurdity & beyond to where meaning is flesh & sexless. i do not know what the intent is since Mc Aloran would agree that intent is irrelevant especially to where it matters, the self.
every human without exception lives homeless a foreign land it does not matter, he observes, not verbatim but in passing obvious.
perhaps seeds to bleed unto having bled escapade eye of
blood fragment all traced from nucleus given to shadowing/ it yet it
is bitter yet a whipped canine’s tears satiate breathing no more than
phlegm spat in the face of desire’s shadowing occluded simulacrum/
terse between one shadow/ not a trace nor given unto/
nothing is relevant beyond one’s localization & the landscape is not the earth upon which we live but culture the jawbone of a prophet some smoke over a battlefield lake an apparent skull. we do not have but the null the dead they are better than we was.
waxen all/ psychotic tread
given to birth from ever-flowing none/ speeches trinkets things for
some other absence/ cold weight of null and void seeping in where
fallen tread redeems no light broken upon emptied soil/ fingers to
dredge in fleshed obscurity/ walls as if there/ walls warp in (the)/
in-suffocate of no clear distance calling from what black till nowhere
left to be/ blood beneath butcher’s fingernails seclusion not a trace/
here Mc Aloran is not being obscure, & if the reader thinks he is then i do not know how much they should fuck off but it’s quite a lot. the words are used in a poetic sense, they do not tell stories but give a very detailed description of that what is not, the reality there is, the literal object A once we have forgotten the bad baby & looking for object a who is never there.
“Ave Ave” – which he explicitly actually says – gives one a world to turn into Mc Aloran explicitly & quite correctly rejects. (Once again we have not mentioned Beckett.) I obviously recommend that you buy this book.
Here it is:

4 further from…

broken as was
…as was found…adrift in…mirage taste dim ice blood of the recollect…burns all the way down to the centre spit it out spinal lock it…remnant of fossil tears whereof still shatter it sees no dawning/ dawning…adrift in yes yet of collision taste of nothing ever was unspoken call it…dressage of final exigent cold wind a-breathe where sudden as was wrought the ever-less of bone reduced to shrapnel colours the like of which of never once echoed from…as of the dance what…to the centre from out of where than other if in in closes the door ever as if to shadow upon where subtle charge is a broken as was before it came…wrings out the blood from soiled undergarments…till see-saw shadows deprivation of…skulled all to once then of as if to motion unto speech forgotten tryst of…as was found…fossil tears a tearing of meat whereby the bone’s tragedy is revealed…doused by butcher’s wand a glint of cold steel a sudden as if to nothing ever to claim…never once echoed from…dance where what of…what of what if what sung what of it what final ash till taste abandon collect of all distances to trace beyond yet buried in…in the null & void…epi-centre forgot it forgotten as of ever neither left nor other…
long way other than
…have of sought where other than…descends into no other placement/ desires the other breath of which till escapade eye…ruptures upon the bone of tangential abort where some if till cleft eye waste & wanton blessed the papyrus taste burned of in reclusion…peers out the window of all vertigo flames to catch where light breaks bone stone mercury…entrails will suffice yet of in sickness fallen blade upon to impart fallen upon the blade of it unsung ever…black underwater skull relapse…vision impaired by the uncertainty of a future where the ribs once separated to reveal a salvo of tears that never flow other than inwardly the candle slowly extinguished…
dead centre dead
…the pageant reeks of blind silence ever…silence ever was …random absence burning in the hearth of acrid meat of sickness to absorb it…taste of…of smoke dissolve of lung…it sees sky it is a limb torn from the fragment the whisper…what of it…little if only no not ever a cure for other of till shred dissolve…fingers to trace…corrupt light only to reveal whereof the what of nothing claimed until forgotten…slip-stream of desire & the breakage of some…down the fucking drain as roundelay it goes…it in of the dim stretch of taste of collapse/ torn from…
some sudden
…eye spliced some sudden of as if to echo…break of long shadow to fall where noxious fall pomegranate…it whence…trace dense as of devour it whole…spacial eclipt…shit-streaked a banquet of what of or other collapse nothing having orchestrated…it once blend of dense smoke kisses apart the skies from which a bitter taint…all once held…blood if…+1…density of the blood of final…tears away the film of eye to reveal what closure of…blind head of skull of skin flesh of nothing within…reek of lightless having orchestrated film of noxious…+2…a fist a forage…the sun skinned of purpose all the while where the bit landscape bled of ocular untold reminiscence…eye spliced of the all to having never yet of the once the once only…till die a little more…


eye end see eye
…eye see end see eye…sees eye see end now of throughout it sees…of the no way how nor of for the ending sightless …upon as was before redundant to trace…breathless throughout cold speech listless eye ever…closes reveals nothing…opens to dark chasm of none…eye to bend as if  to lock a frozen shadowing…trace as no as if all falls asunderance collapse eye will in foreign taint…what as if to…eye does not…sees end broken fragments of nowhere from to trace…it dense as…eye sees end in retribute asking of till given nothing of throughout…cannot…redundant lights to trace…reveals nothing of…cold closure listless shadow no…end now of throughout where static bleeds…see eye end…closes eye once more reveals nothing of either other than…speech listless ever eye…never the of or if what am shall breathe when see end eye what yes an end…yet eye does not…cannot…now or of throughout…redundant to trace…closure cold listless reveals nothing more…bleeds static of the end till now…ever eye in foreign taint…closes eye…subtle fragment subtle taste…cold speech listless eye ever…given nothing of…reveals nothing of…eye as ever was before…cannot…for the ending sightless…

“as once was”

…as once was should…never other…never other than should once was as…another never of…no not once whereof shut down to…an other than a lapse…breakage point where broken stolen from some other silhouette…it follows afterward…once not no of in or with or of whereof…stillness to touch grace how of it graven…tidal as…nothing of the matter being nothing of the being non-other if…to touch once…all of in din reflect shadowy devour…whispers of the none throughout where faculty of something never held…subtle flow of blood entity of silhouette silently throughout…stings just a little here or there…blind razor to taste it-speak solace of demise where cast dice blossom into obsidian flowers an outstretched palm…bones to warp as of before when of the before nor less…dead echo…stun grip of vertiginous…of the matter being of non other than collapse taken from commence a frozen as if to no not viable…lapse then of as was before as it were before…were once where it long shadow fall upon where of the intrinsic stings just a little as…in dim reflect…subtle flow…to touch grace a withering hand traces throughout from outset of…final reek emanates from…not a trace of other than as if to whisper beneath the breath…as once was should…as once were never other…it follows afterward…a little here or there…here or there of the commence no matter…stun as if in lack abort cold echo stylus of lapse closes the wound a cracked skyline torn from whereof throughout emptily to travail as if to say it on what from as if collision breath/ with what no surface ever of the silent meat as if to echo from out of…yet pisses in the latrine of breathing all the while…stings just a little the acrid reek of final as…shadowy devour until…as was once should…as should…it follows afterward…a dead blind weight as if there ever were any other than…graven flow of funereal bone bite snare of…a taste never yet known…cannot be known…cannot ever have been…knuckles to crack crack stun of exhale abortive lapse…no not once whereof collision breakage point stolen from some silhouette…cracked static laughter pierces the…nothing to begin from nothing to follow in as if to…never other than should once was as was once should…forgotten the exist smeared across as of blood as of as of…stings just a little a silhouette echoing silently throughout…it follows afterward…