Rogane
Windsor’s perturbations remain wilfully experiential. In poem after pogrom after pointel, he has contorted
himself well beyond the realms of Apollo’s automata towards the moss-clogged aqueducts
of Empire. A confident conductor of
shuddering juggernauts, he has been vigorously exposed on a number of occasions
as ‘a tropical atheist’ and ‘a wounded Elizabethan tax collector’. He denigrates these climbing-plants with
Regency gusto. His Septembers are uniformly
milky, and whisper their invitations to Reykjavik, suggesting independence from
certain districts of ‘barbarian’ emptiness.
Impossibly, many of the pencils that might pickle Windsor’s dreamscapes
best are snarled in a pitcher of weak French lager, placed tantalisingly just
beyond whistling distance of the rackety encampment. His peregrinations, deselected: Libya (Pig in a Dress Books, 1981); The Tropical Surfaces (Alabama Rookery,
1985); Eight Journeys with Satirical
Aspirations (Hot Trowels, 1986); The
Martyrs’ Frogs (Yuck Chute, 1989); Collected
Heresies (Asbestos Kimono, 1995); The
Steady Kingdom (Fingerless Press, 1999); Harbour (Crimson Beefing, 2010).
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