Abri de Swardt – Twink Lighthouse

<p>"Twink Lighthouse" deploys Frank O'Hara's "Personism: A Manifesto" (1959) – in which he dwells on a poem which exists "between two persons instead of two pages", invoking the speculative "death of literature as we know it” – to address ‘Darling MB’ through cellular recordings as transmitted signs, a WhatsApp Personism. Abri de Swardt approaches the epistolary canon as detoxifying lubricant peppered by meteorological lacunae: as narrator he is situated in waiting, poised on a balcony above a city, and MB is elsewhere, incapacitated in a fictionalised double passivity and distancing.&nbsp;</p><p><br></p><p>Epigrammatic vignettes of passenger seat POV videos of car washes videoed off Youtube, a band of wigged Rastafari who lose their noses, hibiscus pollen applied as mascara, a blob of spit trickling over a photograph of a studio prototype of a satyr in Matthew Barney’s Drawing Restraint 7, and a voguish light fitting that has split in two, punctuate the narrator’s sprawling recollections of “how we could’ve been salty dogs”.&nbsp;</p><p><br></p><p>Here an untethering from locality is relayed in vagaries and anecdotes on settler colonial history and queer genealogies, amidst half-mast hankerings and luncheon rebuttals, through a tone at once jeremiad, acerbic and camp, redolent of the self-involvement and fantasied agency only possible in an audience of one other. Like a foghorn to a surfed up somnambulist De Swardt mimes Sartre on Genet whom “writes in a state of dream and, in order to consolidate his dreams, dreams that he writes, then writes that he dreams, and the act of writing awakens him.”</p>