A still from Notes from the Toxic Underground by Morris Fox
Artist/poet Morris Fox makes observations of our external and internal worlds, intermingling and connecting them in emotive verses delivered by otherworldly messengers. His work uses poetry, digitally-mediated performance, and purpose-built fantasy worlds to communicate something important from a dream (or wake us from one?).
In his piece Notes from the Toxic Underground, Morris’s avatar sits in the comforting green glow of flickering screens, phosphorescent walls, and a serene river of sludge. He performs a poem in the non-plussed tone that only AI can deliver:
Love has a language, in such gloom, it’s spoken between the flame and the moth, it burns to hold the litmus blush, contaminations of desire and lethal, drawn to gaslight, it’s toxic. The outside grows inside me, I swallow your toxic, chips of glitter sparkling from your gunk, toxic, twinkling in every lung—Do you feel me now?
Enter Morris’s lair to receive the entire poem in Notes from the Toxic Underground, after the jump!
Fox is leading a digital roundtable this Thursday, February 17 to discuss his show Vestiges and Remains. Register for the talk here.
Morris Fox (@morsefaaks) is a queer artist and new gothicc writer. His work tongues & cruises the haunted house for feelings of Elysium. Words are a net—anything that serves to catch or ensnare—are a necropolis, a dead person city, a cemetery of desire. He remains in “Canada” and online.
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