gurdeepmattu

Author and Publisher. I work in academic publishing. I live in London and am currently writing my second novel. I can be contacted at @gurdeepmattu and gurdeep.mattu@gmail.com and would especially like to hear from literary agents interested in representing my work.

Piss

I think of the air in the gents, humid with water from the hand dryers, acid with the uric tang of piss. The subtler notes of rotting shit.

Wo heimat zu?

Airport Stress Dream

I had the airport stress dream again. It’s like a recurring dream. I can’t get to the airport, via any form of transport, no matter how hard I try. I miss my plane – usually one that would be taking me to a conference. This time : a car smash, lost hours, a late, never-arriving District Line, a trip home, a refusal on my part to ask for a lift. I feel dreadful this morning.

Cagliari

I’ve been on conference, in Sardinia. In the port town of Cagliari, to be more precise. There are other guides available, and to be honest you’re probably better off consulting D.H. Lawrence’s “Sea and Sardinia”. In any case, some impressions.

It is hard to get things done in Italy, and in Sardinia this is no exception. Things get done in their own style and manner and if the results are not consistent, so be it.

There is a certain island monoculture (which has made me view the parts of England not big cities, that is, everything except London, Brum, Manchester, maybe Leeds, in a new light. So I have learned something, perhaps? What a rare occurrence! What I am learning is that the referendum result was decades in the making and that it is much, much bigger than Johnson and Farage and their ilk.

Port towns tend to be a bit dirty, scruffy. Cagliari is no exception. I saw plenty of antifa graffiti, only one swastika.

Cagliari is naturally stunning – I mean, really jaw-dropping.

It gets hot – real hot – in the summer.

What Never Happens in Sci-Fi

But should.

“Phasers to stun!”

“I’m… I’m- outta battery! ”

“Shit I forgot to recharge these bastards”

(all crew die)

Theresa May, or she may not

We are moving into a post-politics era where the comings and goings move faster than the news. “News is the new addiction” wrote DeLillo and as ever he predicted twitter refresh and live feeds on the online newspapers. And as Brexit moves across the horizon like the Death Star, here is its reluctant champion, an anti-woman woman, a middle Englander who might as well be called Cambridgeshire, and still we pant on all fours to Sup at the dog bowl of News.

Hypocrisy

Once
I scorned him
Now
I am him

Bromenade

A walk in the cherry blossoms
And it takes much longer, now,
Much longer, to recover.
Hangovers last for days.
Colds last a week.
My spirits are recovered
By the beauty this tree
has carelessly
Scattered on the ground,
Morsels of the infinite
On my yellow plastic Nikes

Mots juste

We circle each other like
Wounded Lion bars
Suffering is tinged by the sweet promise
Of salvation, elevation to the Galaxy
Of Milky Ways and the Ripple in space time.

I Draw

Painting on the wall of the
Brick wall
The man runs lazily to the quick brown fox and says
Hashtag Modernism
Hashtag egg and beans
In ma belly

Waitrose

TCR Waitrose, shut down
TCR Waitrose, SHUT DOWN
Where we get our sandwich?
Shut down…
Closed down.

TCR Waitrose, shut down
TCR Waitrose, SHUT DOWN
Man dem got no sourdough
Shut down..
Proper shut down
Rise up
Protest!
We want our
Sushi bento
Heston Sandwich
Parma ham

TCR Waitrose, shut down