I have recently started to use an app whereby I dictate into one of those dinky little microphones and the pearls of great price appear immediately on the screen of my Mac. It is pretty miraculous, to put it mildly, and infinitely better than the similar package I tried years ago with wildly feeble results – it might as well have been translating what I was saying into some long-dead language.

Anyway . . . this morning I was using the thing to help me with a long and complicated e-mail . . . and it was doing a great job. Suddenly Frances came in to discuss a topic of great moment, namely what were we going to have for lunch. She was talking from the other end of the room and I was talking to her over my shoulder. After she had gone I looked down at my e-mail and realized that I had not turned my microphone off and that the machine had been trying to listen to what F and I had been talking about and had done as best it could in the matter of writing it down. When I had recovered from my surprise at seeing a mass of words in the middle of my e-mail I began to read them. It was nothing less than a “stream of un-consciouness” and was clearly of significant literary merit(!!!) .

On two previous occasions with OSP books I have used a technique involving the cutting up, into units of sense, texts which are hard to understand. Firstly there was The Paradise Driver my strange writing under morphine (provided by a hospital!) and the other the arcane and antique writings (about the faery world) by Mr Robert Kirk, The Secret Commonwealth.

It occurred to me that this technique might enhance my strange Found Poem and so, I think, it does. So, I attach it here . . . just for fun.