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Tenement Press is an occasional publisher of esoteric,
accidental, angular, & interdisciplinary literatures.
My head is my only house unless it rains
Don Glen Vliet
See here for Rehearsal, an ongoing
& growing collation of original (& borrowed)
digital ephemera.
See here for Railroad Flat Radio, an assembly
of works for the radio.
Tenement Press is an occasional publisher of esoteric,
accidental, angular, & interdisciplinary literatures.
My head is my only house unless it rains
Don Glen Vliet
Were a wind to arise
I could put up a sail
Were there no sail
![]()
I’d make one of canvas and sticks
Bertolt Brecht, ‘Motto’
(Buckow Elegies)
I could put up a sail
Were there no sail
Bertolt Brecht, ‘Motto’
(Buckow Elegies)
See here for Rehearsal, an ongoing
& growing collation of original (& borrowed)
digital ephemera.
See here for Railroad Flat Radio, an assembly
of works for the radio.
Rehearsal / 28. A great shaking / Reading Log
![]()
Burley Fisher Books / 27.09.24
Edwina Attlee
Jen Calleja
Tom Betteridge
Grace Linden
![]()
¶ Edwina Attlee
Your letter: I tried for hours
to decipher your handwriting,
unfortunately I only managed a couple of words,
which didn't get me very far.
Such a shame that I had to put
your beautiful letter back in its envelope
and hope that someone would be able to
interpret your writing for me.
The translator problem is unsolvable:
I didn't know anyone qualified to adequately carry over your poems.
Yes, I could read your chicken scratch—with glasses!
Again, I think commas would make meaning clearer.
![]()
curling fetal
original
time of arrival
in drum sound
to gain confidences
to chatter at the points where roughage shows
blooms in steel fences
but you can shift about if you want
in a dust of spurs
just beyond where rehearsal
meets sound cladding
we can link or
be knitted
play in split tones revolving listen out
cap each other’s effort
notes proceed sudden
dog roses there are these grief holes that suck
particulate scents
and expel them back as basic air
accruing clipped
residues that live
in the moving
parts of the body and cannot speak
or be called upon
but in mute transcription
of improper signals
mangled in static
condense in outline a social shape chem trail
line not reaching yous
stitching my courier bag with floss
the wind clamped again dead breath
thrift and vetch
in another life there’s still a chorus
of untrained voices
flinging utensils to the concrete
amassed sound
that brushes and strokes
cascades through the bulwarks
yous off in the clouds somewhere raining glossy
for a speakermouth that gapes
gives up in audition
all fluency
poetry is a death cult
held back by the grain-
sound of a slackened body speaking its minds
in occupation
the poem by the sea bindweed
throat pinned to a post
![]()
today I gathered all red flowers
from Hyde Park Corner all the way
down Vauxhall Bridge road
there were tears in everything,
the stream rose above its source
or seemed to, blinking, holding out
melodic laments for the people
who could not be brought back
to that place, and I thought
of the world which you would be
were you there making it and made
mostly of dust, and broken light
oh, little grip, I embraced the knees
of the image and begged it give you
back to me: even among the glass
offices the song still redly rose, and
I scratched the whole earth over though
not to engrave you, as you only slept
![]()
and about labor:
light light in the air,
in the streets, through the earth, on the earth
look, waters have entered them
even up to the souls
of those
who eat
the bread of care,
each the reflection of each
who walk
on stony water,
singing
having begun
they will begin, that is,
once and again
look, the workers
have veined the whole earth
they are as fresh
as little flowers,
and as dirty
Order a copy of Attlee’s A great shaking from Tenement direct.
Edwina Attlee is the author of two pamphlets, Roasting Baby (if a leaf falls press, 2016) and the cream (Clinic, 2016). She teaches history to students of architecture in London. a great shaking (Tenement Press, 2024) is her first collection.
Jen Calleja is the author of Vehicle (Prototype, 2023), Dust Sucker (Makina Books, 2023) and Goblinhood: Goblin as a Mode (Rough Trade Books, 2024). Calleja also translates German-language literature and is co-publisher at Praspar Press.
Tom Betteridge is a poet living in London. His pamphlets include Dog Shades (Just Not, 2023), Mudchute (Veer2, 2021) and Dressings (Materials, 2019). With Ellen Dillon he co-edited The Journal of British and Irish Innovative Poetry’s special issue on Peter Manson’s poetry and translations, 2020.
Grace Connolly Linden is a poet from London. Her work can be found in Prototype 5, The Journal of British and Irish Innovative Poetry and Datableed Zine. Her pamphlet Well was published by Veer2 (2022). She organises collaborative writing projects, most recently The Blacksmith and Project-Self-Detective. She also works as a secondary school teacher.
Edwina Attlee
Jen Calleja
Tom Betteridge
Grace Linden
¶ Edwina Attlee
OCTOBER / NOVEMBER
There is someone here now
they should be able to tell us if
they’ve electrocuted the moat
or if taller things are afoot
might be the executioner
might be the boss’s wife either
way I missed you today I’m
indebted moving the bridge
brown following the eye in the
wall saying there’s a clever
castle good boy
The wind is other-wordly. The landscape is a gorge. The fortune
teller drives a sorry cabin on his back his horses are hounds of
spindly whipped sun, cancer is in the sky, and a sorry lion who is
sick upon my feet. If I have a premonition it’s that the earth
will move. The river is erring. The corridor staggers. I do not sit
to pee but crouch and water the bay nuts that have fallen from
the tree. The men are tired. I miss my sister. You move past us in
your head. Crowned.
![]()
they should be able to tell us if
they’ve electrocuted the moat
or if taller things are afoot
might be the executioner
might be the boss’s wife either
way I missed you today I’m
indebted moving the bridge
brown following the eye in the
wall saying there’s a clever
castle good boy
*
The wind is other-wordly. The landscape is a gorge. The fortune
teller drives a sorry cabin on his back his horses are hounds of
spindly whipped sun, cancer is in the sky, and a sorry lion who is
sick upon my feet. If I have a premonition it’s that the earth
will move. The river is erring. The corridor staggers. I do not sit
to pee but crouch and water the bay nuts that have fallen from
the tree. The men are tired. I miss my sister. You move past us in
your head. Crowned.
¶ Jen Calleja
MICHAEL IS UNREADABLE
Your letter: I tried for hours
to decipher your handwriting,
unfortunately I only managed a couple of words,
which didn't get me very far.
Such a shame that I had to put
your beautiful letter back in its envelope
and hope that someone would be able to
interpret your writing for me.
The translator problem is unsolvable:
I didn't know anyone qualified to adequately carry over your poems.
Yes, I could read your chicken scratch—with glasses!
Again, I think commas would make meaning clearer.
¶ Tom Betteridge
WHAT WAS THAT PIECE
AT THE OLD FRUITMARKET
curling fetal
original
time of arrival
in drum sound
to gain confidences
to chatter at the points where roughage shows
blooms in steel fences
but you can shift about if you want
in a dust of spurs
just beyond where rehearsal
meets sound cladding
we can link or
be knitted
play in split tones revolving listen out
cap each other’s effort
notes proceed sudden
dog roses there are these grief holes that suck
particulate scents
and expel them back as basic air
accruing clipped
residues that live
in the moving
parts of the body and cannot speak
or be called upon
but in mute transcription
of improper signals
mangled in static
condense in outline a social shape chem trail
line not reaching yous
stitching my courier bag with floss
the wind clamped again dead breath
thrift and vetch
in another life there’s still a chorus
of untrained voices
flinging utensils to the concrete
amassed sound
that brushes and strokes
cascades through the bulwarks
yous off in the clouds somewhere raining glossy
for a speakermouth that gapes
gives up in audition
all fluency
poetry is a death cult
held back by the grain-
sound of a slackened body speaking its minds
in occupation
the poem by the sea bindweed
throat pinned to a post
¶ Grace Linden
WHISTLE RED GLASS
today I gathered all red flowers
from Hyde Park Corner all the way
down Vauxhall Bridge road
et de labore:
lumina lumina in aere
in platea, per terras, in terra
lumina lumina in aere
in platea, per terras, in terra
there were tears in everything,
the stream rose above its source
or seemed to, blinking, holding out
ecce, intraverunt
aquae usque
ad animas illorum
aquae usque
ad animas illorum
its hands palms up, and another
song was heard, like the voice of
a multitude breaking out into
song was heard, like the voice of
a multitude breaking out into
qui manducant
panem curae
alius alii reprecussus
panem curae
alius alii reprecussus
melodic laments for the people
who could not be brought back
to that place, and I thought
qui spatiantur
in aqua lapidosa
cantantes
in aqua lapidosa
cantantes
of the world which you would be
were you there making it and made
mostly of dust, and broken light
coepti coepient
id est, semel
iterumque
id est, semel
iterumque
oh, little grip, I embraced the knees
of the image and begged it give you
back to me: even among the glass
ecce operarii
totam per terram
venas faciunt
totam per terram
venas faciunt
offices the song still redly rose, and
I scratched the whole earth over though
not to engrave you, as you only slept
quam flosculi
tam virides sunt
et tam sordidi
†
tam virides sunt
et tam sordidi
†
These poems were read over the course of an evening to mark
& celebrate the publication of Edwina Attlee’s A great shaking—the
tweflth title in Tenement’s “Yellowjacket” series—hosted by
Burley Fisher Books, London, 27.09.24.
*
Attlee’s poems ‘October’ & ‘November’ are drawn
from her ‘Book of Days,’ the first of three chapters that comprise
A great shaking (Tenement Press, 2024).
Calleja’s poem ‘Michael is Unreadable’ is excerpted from her
pamphlet Hamburger in the Archive (if a leaf falls press, 2019).
Betteridge’s poem ‘Fruitmarket’ was first published via the
87press' ‘The Hythe' project (see here) &—thereafter—included in
his pamphlet, Dog Shades (Just Not, 2023).
The first line of Linden’s poem ‘Whistle Red Glass’ is drawn
from ‘A’ by Louis Zukofsky / ‘To-day I gather all red flowers’ / the piece
is the second part of a three act poem originally written as a libretto
for the group Search Engine Quartet.
† An English-langauge translation
of the Latin verses in Linden’s work
is as follows ...
& celebrate the publication of Edwina Attlee’s A great shaking—the
tweflth title in Tenement’s “Yellowjacket” series—hosted by
Burley Fisher Books, London, 27.09.24.
*
Attlee’s poems ‘October’ & ‘November’ are drawn
from her ‘Book of Days,’ the first of three chapters that comprise
A great shaking (Tenement Press, 2024).
Calleja’s poem ‘Michael is Unreadable’ is excerpted from her
pamphlet Hamburger in the Archive (if a leaf falls press, 2019).
Betteridge’s poem ‘Fruitmarket’ was first published via the
87press' ‘The Hythe' project (see here) &—thereafter—included in
his pamphlet, Dog Shades (Just Not, 2023).
The first line of Linden’s poem ‘Whistle Red Glass’ is drawn
from ‘A’ by Louis Zukofsky / ‘To-day I gather all red flowers’ / the piece
is the second part of a three act poem originally written as a libretto
for the group Search Engine Quartet.
† An English-langauge translation
of the Latin verses in Linden’s work
is as follows ...
light light in the air,
in the streets, through the earth, on the earth
look, waters have entered them
even up to the souls
of those
who eat
the bread of care,
each the reflection of each
who walk
on stony water,
singing
having begun
they will begin, that is,
once and again
look, the workers
have veined the whole earth
they are as fresh
as little flowers,
and as dirty
Order a copy of Attlee’s A great shaking from Tenement direct.
Edwina Attlee is the author of two pamphlets, Roasting Baby (if a leaf falls press, 2016) and the cream (Clinic, 2016). She teaches history to students of architecture in London. a great shaking (Tenement Press, 2024) is her first collection.
Jen Calleja is the author of Vehicle (Prototype, 2023), Dust Sucker (Makina Books, 2023) and Goblinhood: Goblin as a Mode (Rough Trade Books, 2024). Calleja also translates German-language literature and is co-publisher at Praspar Press.
Tom Betteridge is a poet living in London. His pamphlets include Dog Shades (Just Not, 2023), Mudchute (Veer2, 2021) and Dressings (Materials, 2019). With Ellen Dillon he co-edited The Journal of British and Irish Innovative Poetry’s special issue on Peter Manson’s poetry and translations, 2020.
Grace Connolly Linden is a poet from London. Her work can be found in Prototype 5, The Journal of British and Irish Innovative Poetry and Datableed Zine. Her pamphlet Well was published by Veer2 (2022). She organises collaborative writing projects, most recently The Blacksmith and Project-Self-Detective. She also works as a secondary school teacher.
