Sudden Prose Reprints: "Early Retirement" by Ian Seed

 

Early Retirement

After many years abroad, I moved to a small village in Cornwall. The locals immediately took to me because I seemed foreign and exotic. The plump, middle-aged woman at the Post Office asked me if I would take on the leading male role in a production that was going to be put on at the village hall. She would play the leading lady. I was too ashamed to admit that I wouldn’t be able to remember the lines. Instead I told her my schedule was already packed, mumbling a lie about a book to write. She blushed as if I’d slapped her. Perhaps another year, I suggested, though I knew my memory would be even worse by then. She shook her head. My standing in the community would never be the same again. 

 

 

Ian Seed

New York Hotel (Shearsman, 2018) 

Sudden Prose Reprints: "Volunteer" by Ian Seed

Volunteer

We were all in a large tent. Sitting at untidily laid-out trestle tables, we had to sort out hundreds of letters, stick labels with addresses on envelopes, put the letters inside and seal them with a lick. I was surprised at how quickly my mouth and tongue got sore. I had come in good faith, but was now wondering how I could escape.

A tall American lady dressed in a red uniform seemed to be standing guard at the flap door. She wanted to know why I was leaving so soon. Before I could reply, she pointed to the ring on my finger. ‘Oh,’ she said, ‘the best ones always get taken, don’t they?’ She gave me a bundle of large letters and envelopes to take home with me, to make sure I was kept busy and useful.

 

 

Ian Seed

New York Hotel (Shearsman, 2018) 

 

Sudden Prose Reprints: "Evolution" by Ian Seed

 

Evolution

 

There were some large black ducks, not unlike dodos, by the German lake. I began pushing one gently by the beak until it pushed back and then slowly and clumsily chased me round and round. From nearby metal benches, some Germans looked on bemused.  

We hadn’t been here since my daughter was a toddler. At that time, she was frightened by the birds, and I had played the same game to amuse her. Now she was a teenager exploring the old town on her own, while my wife slept off her hangover. I had nothing better to do.

A German man, roughly the same age and height as me, but much broader in the shoulder, got up and started playing my game with one of the ducks. But he did so in an aggressive and exaggerated manner, as if to parody me. The others smiled and their eyes lit up, perhaps anticipating my inevitable humiliation.

 

 

Ian Seed

New York Hotel (Shearsman, 2018) 

An interview with Lucy Hamilton on her book of prose poetry, Stalker

Ian Seed interviews Lucy Hamilton on her first collection of prose poems, Stalker, here: https://tearsinthefence.com/2018/02/02/an-interview-with-lucy-hamilton-on-stalker-by-ian-seed/amp/?__twitter_impression=true

Sudden Prose Reprints: "New Neighbours" by Ian Seed

New Neighbours

 

Three men moved into the flat on the other side of the landing. They seemed a friendly bunch and would always greet me with smiles and loud helloes when we squeezed by one another on the narrow staircase. One of the three men was divorced and had a small daughter who would come to visit him. At first it seemed that the father and daughter had a special relationship. I could hear her calling ‘Daddy’ excitedly and his voice responding in warm, yet measured tones. I would watch through the window as she ran round the small lawn at the back and he stood there smiling proudly in his rolled-up shirtsleeves. But over the weeks I noticed his voice becoming harsher and more impatient. When he wanted her to come back into the house, he would take her hand and tug it roughly. I began to wonder if he was abusing her. It was as if he could sense my suspicions, for he would glare at me and say nothing whenever our paths crossed. Now the three men would shove by me on the stairs. They were always laughing at some joke that only they understood, but which I was sure was obscene.

Ian Seed

 

Ian Seed is editor of www.shadowtrain.com. Publications include Sleeping with the Ice Cream Vendor (Knives, Forks and Spoons Press, 2012), Threadbare Fables (where "New Neighbours" first appeared; Like This Press, 2012), Shifting Registers (Shearsman, 2011), and a translation from the Italian of Ivano Fermini, the straw which comes apart (Oystercatcher Press, 2010). He is currently working on a full-length collection of prose poems.

A review of three new prose poetry collections

See Ian Seed's new essay in Stride Magazine for a review of three new collections that suggest the range of possibilities in prose poetry: Tsvetanka Elenkova's The Seventh Gesture, Roberto Tejada's Exposition Park, and Richard Gwyn's Sad Giraffe Cafe.

Forthcoming books for Sudden Prose at Bath Spa

These are to improve our holdings in prose poetry and have just been ordered. I'd be glad for suggestions for short-short story collections beyond what we already have.

Jamey Dunham, The Bible of Lost Pets. Salt, 2009.

Gary Young, Pleasure: Poems. Heyday Books, 2006.

Ian Seed. Anonymous Intruder. Shearsman, 2009.

Peter Riley, Greek Passages. Shearsman, 2009.

Lesle Lewis, Small Boat. Iowa University Press, 2003.

Charles Simic, The World Doesn't End. Mariner, 1989.

Charles Simic, Selected Poems 1983-2001. Faber, 2004.