Niall O'Sullivan

"He'll have to endure the rest of his life bereft of his state roles and recognitions and will have to make do with his wealth and stately home" isn't just a shit take, it's also a signifier of how obsequious the press is towards the royals and the institution of monarchy.

now please

I was about to say "nah, it ain't that bad" cos I keep forgetting you're in Scotland now.

My current annoying habit is giggling to myself while saying " toblerone" in the style of WB Yeats exclaiming "Inisfree".

94th Balkan Academy Awards, gotcha. Looking it up now!

My goodness! I'm guessing this was in Scandinavia or the Balkans or something? Maybe some low key arts festival awards event?

Oh, I didn't know about this. Was it at an after party or something? Were there any witnesses?

Perhaps there’s a scatological one?

"Italian to restaurant" haha

Balding man with glasses with a big 50 balloon obscuring his face. Text below reads: Not one to normally share birthday related stuff online but today's a bit of a biggie. If you'd asked me 5 years ago I would have been all about having a big gig or something extravagant but today will be a posh cinema visit with Mrs O'Sullivan and my favourite Italian to restaurant with my little family tonight. To any friends that see this, I probably owe you a reply text or email, possibly from about five years ago or longer. I've not been very good at that kind of thing of late but I'll see if I can work through that backlog soon. Much love to everyone that's helped make the first half century something worth smiling about. Much love, Niall X

Just waiting for the red arrows. Any moment now...

Bright yellow cover featuring a crumpled blue balloon centered; title “Collected Poems” and author “Geoff Hattersley” appear in blue at the top left; “Broken Sleep Books” sits small at the bottom left.

He Dreamed He Burst Balloons He dreamed he burst balloons for a living and was his own supervisor. He worked twelve hours a week, made a good wage. He was never exhausted, never bored. He was calm like a cat full of tuna, calm like a yacht in a sunlit harbour. His past life had been forgotten like a dull episode of a cop show. There were no scars on his body.

Broken Sleep He indicates with open palm a vacant seat at his table Even though my legs are broken I opt to stand, drunk in shorts and a vest. "I never thought I'd win!" he says loudly. Not one person in the place could care less My wife turns over in her sleep. I place my arm around her waist and my thighs against her buttocks but it's hot and sweaty and I soon move softly away and lie flat on my back, my chest conversing with itself loudly.

Geoff Hattersley’s Collected Poems brings together over three decades of work, mapping a singular voice grounded in working-class experience, dark wit, and sharply observed detail.

I'm sure all the bad Tron: Ares reviews are a massive shock for anybody that doesn't see "starring Jared Leto" as a three-word review within itself.

Is this the new version of, "I wrote this on the train here"?

Zelda Williams - "You're not making art, you're making disgusting, over-processed hotdogs out of the lives of human beings..."

That final image at the end of the quote is repulsively brilliant too.

The Waltham Forest Poetry Competition, judged by the fabulous Lorraine Mariner, invites you to send poems on the theme of WEATHER/WHETHER. Over £1,000 in prizes. Entry fee for adults is from £3, FREE for young poets under the age of 18. Closing date is MONDAY 20 OCTOBER.

www.bit.ly/wfpoetrycomp

They're also only introducing the grants for STEM and subjects that are economically desirable. It's a slightly cuddlier version of the Tory strategy of gutting the arts and humanities.

Spoke to my students about my own AI detection abilities yesterday and unironically referred to myself as the Clankerfinder General.

Big tech CEOs have spent more than a decade puffing their chests and saying that they are more like heads of state running global companies with bigger revenues than many countries

… but now they’re all folding to actual government pressure faster than any tinpot dictator has ever folded

I'm sure that constantly tapping that blue switch will endear you to everybody.

Just a general shoutout: if anyone is after a creative writing workshop, writing on tabletop games, or you need an experienced SFF author on a project, hit me up. Also MS critique slots are available on my website. Funds v tight while I finish my book & some extra work would be lovely!

Brian Patten was one of the big poets that I met when I was in my early twenties and I remember him being really nice to me while I acted like a massive fucking twat. The memory helps me to be nice and pay it forward whenever I find myself dealing with twenty something twat-boy poets now. RIP.

That's what happens when you offer an olive branch to a bigot

ICE attempted
and failed to disappear a food delivery guy.
It needed to be scored.

I replied, "Benny Hill music would complete this" and then realised the video was on mute. That was when god spoke to me.

I find that the runback from the bench to the boss that keeps killing you in Hollow Knight Silksong becomes more bearable if you make Joe Pesci Home Alone "Schaken fracken.." grumble noises along the way.

POEM (Dwayne Johnson has lost 60lbs) –⁠ after Frank O'Hara I was contemplating the subtle late August/early September shift as I counted four squished slugs on the narrow path to the big Sainsburys –⁠ how I couldn’t quite pin that shift down, whether it was a quality of the light or a thinness in the air or whether it was actually me as I shifted into the Autumn of my life; how my recent embrace of the term’ “late summer” was a sign of me being in denial? But then I saw a headline in an algorithmic feed –⁠ DWAYNE JOHNSON HAS LOST 60LBS! The melange of influencers, the celebrity commentariat and wrestling dirt sheets was ablaze with takes: He’s going for serious roles now! He did it for Scorcese! A man in his fifties can’t carry that much muscle, it’s a burden that the heart cannot bear! I just wondered where that 60lbs of Dwayne Johnson had gone. Is Dwayne Johnson a variation of the ship of Theseus where a plank is shed at every port and never replaced? Maybe a tiny, 60lb Dwayne Johnson will show up and declare that he is actually the true, essential Dwayne Johnson and the bigger Dwayne Johnson is actually the shell that he cast aside? You might say that Dwayne’s brain could only live in one vessel but what if his hemispheres were also split during the great shedding? But if that was the case, only one of them would have the gift/curse of language and the only way to truly tell them apart would be to place them in opposing kitchens and smell what they are cooking. I can’t even recognise my own authentic selfhood, let alone choose from two from a fractal of voices and vantages that claim to be the essential Niall. I once dropped my phone in the toilet but I never managed to drop 60lbs. Oh Dwaynes, we love you, pair up!

I like setting alternate versions of Frank O'Hara's POEM (Lana Turner had Collapsed) as a writing exercise for my students but keep writing them myself because they're the perfect way of ingesting pop culture and spitting it out again. Read more stuff here: niall.garden

reflecting on day 1 of game garden & it feels like the most common greeting was "omg i didnt know you were making a game" so i guess i gotta get a bit LOUDER about it!!!!

aaa

Growing up in England, I like how the name Niall has been kind of exotic and how I grew up correcting people who called me Neil. Then I listen to your podcast for constant reminders that it's actually the Irish equivalent of Gary.

As for many poets uneasy in their class consciousness, Tony Harrison’s brilliant controversial long poem V. (1985) blew me away when I first read it. But his short lyrics were sharp, wise, and deeply moving, too, cut from lived life. Saddened to hear the great man has passed. RIP.

Were you, as the wrestlers say, busted open?