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Robert Assaye
Robert Assaye is a writer and critic living in London.

Articles Available Online


Issy Wood, When You I Feel

Art Review

December 2017

Robert Assaye

Art Review

December 2017

At the centre of Issy Wood’s solo exhibition at Carlos/Ishikawa is a room-within-a room. The division of the gallery into two viewing spaces –...

Art

April 2017

'Learning from Athens'

Robert Assaye

Art

April 2017

The history of Documenta, a quinquennial contemporary art exhibition founded in the German city of Kassel in 1955, is...

sweet sweet agency   the candy here is hard & filled & there is nothing i love more than to be treasured if nobody’s watching i just do nothing: lie down don’t hardly breathe, keep my face in careful stillness not to crease its cute forgettability the world is full of edible munchkins & it is my life’s work to work out how to stay creamy on the inside, how not to sour myself up with little nips of this or that or otherwise cut holes in myself thru which to be seen i must learn to love what i cannot know: the wide bleached anus on a porn blog, the insane demands of toddlers, the desire for moderation or slimness of affection, the reasons lovers leave, the trash my cat brings back, the crack of footsteps in the woods at night, why the killer kills i learn it all the hard way but fwiw i would never snap the rabbit’s neck again i would rewind i would keep it every time     honey lamb   don’t remember going downstairs saying sorry or nevermind just the moment of waking not knowing if it’s dusk or dawn sweating like a hothouse flower red & wet & pulled up from under & gasping steeped & steaming like a teabag & drunk on sleep & beer & sadness blue & dewy as a hothouse flower & the white white vodka crouching neat as a bullet low inside me & burning light like a living laser & i feed it – milk & bread & honey & lamb – until i’m sticky as an ant & shining like a hothouse flower thrumming with the urgent clag of honey blood across my chest in uneven lubbing – my vodka heart trembles like a chihuahua & bruises break across my skin all purple & yellow as hothouse flowers & the white hot vodka stars at dusk & dawn glitter inside me i am beautiful as a hothouse flower when i turn myself on i light up in twinkling points between the milky bones of my ribs & pelvis & all the bulbs i planted in my fat hot head burst into bright flowers through my eyes & my teeth bleat like a lamb & i spark myself up into a column of coloured light & fire

Contributor

August 2014

Robert Assaye

Contributor

August 2014

Robert Assaye is a writer and critic living in London.

New Communities

Art

January 2017

Robert Assaye

Art

January 2017

DeviantArt is the world’s ‘largest online community of artists and art-lovers’ and its thirteenth largest social network. Its forty million members contribute to a...
The Land Art of Julie Brook

Art

Issue No. 4

Robert Assaye

Art

Issue No. 4

Julie Brook works with the land. Over the past twenty years she has lived and worked in a succession of inhospitable locations, creating sculptures...

READ NEXT

poetry

August 2016

Three New Poems

Sarah V. Schweig

poetry

August 2016

‘The Audit’ and ‘Red Bank’ are excerpts from Schweig’s forthcoming book, Take Nothing With You (University of Iowa Press, 2016).  ...

feature

May 2012

Film: Palestine Festival of Literature

Omar Robert Hamilton

feature

May 2012

Resistance needs to be recorded. Resistance needs symbols: ideas that can travel faster than speech, last longer than memory....

Interview

March 2017

Interview with Ondjaki

Stephen Henighan

Interview

March 2017

Ondjaki is the most prominent African writer of Portuguese from the generations born after Portugal’s five former colonies on...

 

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