Morten Søndergaard & SJ Fowler

Open Mouth Surgery










Look: A very tall tree is about to come crashing right on this spot where we’re standing.
According to Pharmapoetica, you lost the bet, and so you must take the pill. And you owe me a San Pelligrino.


Avoid double adjectives whenever possible, since they tend to dilute rather than reinforce the effect.


Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, I will be injecting each of your eyeballs with flax, to make them bulge, like a pugs.


Look: A big jerrycan full of extremely corrosive hydrochloric acid. That’s not bad.


Do not breastfeed if you are using Adverbs® since this could harm the infant. Speak to a poet.
The sugar pills are free, starring Jude Law and Lupita Nyong’o.
In the case of serious side-effects, requiring an immediate response from you or your family: call the emergency services.


The blue pills are from China, they feature a little dying stork engraved on the upper face. In China, a dying stalk represents incurable incontinence.




You can use Articles® in any conversation, text or other exchange of words.
I get so angry sometimes. I become so volatile. I blame my shift pattern at work. Sometimes I kick my friends right in the thigh, but I’m getting better at not taking it out on people that I know well and see on a day to day basis.


You can use as many Articles® as you want, wherever you may be or whoever you may be. And that goes for all of you too.


The red pills are from China, they feature a little engraved dying chinese woman. In China the upper face symbolises the many chins of the crying octopus.








Shout. Scream. Whisper. Sing. Do whatever the hell you like. Interjections are completely different from other words in the language anyway.


I itch relentlessly. I have ICS. Itchy Crotch Syndrone. I got it in a Copnehagen glory box.


Interjections® are your first words and in all probability also your last.


When angry I let nothing go. If you make eye contact with me, I will glare right back at you. If you do not look away I will ask you “what the fuck are you looking at?”




Conjunctions deal with life and death. Conjunctions are very philosophical, they tell you what position to take in relation to something else. They have to do with relationships, connections, coordination and classification. They can be your friends or your enemies.
I can smell farts everywhere today. I am starting to worry I have Perforated Colon.
At the first sign of serious side-effects call an ambulance, contact a poet or visit the library.


When I learned once British people shot cannons at Copenhagen, I felt awful. I phoned Mads Mikkelsen right away to say sorry. He told me to take a chill pill. I’m glad I read that Sharpe book, swashbuckling history.



Nouns can easily close in on themselves, but will open up again on repeated use of the Noun in question. Try, for example, repeating it so many times that it turns into chewing-gum in the mouth: blow it up into a bubble.
Doctors are so sick of the sight of me, but when they tell me I’m perfectly fine, I feel an inexpressible sense of joy, apart from that one time when I was diagnosed with ICS.
Generally speaking, Nouns do however have a pleasant way of laying the world open, with their countless associations, recollections and concrete connections. Using Nouns causes your world to expand.


Viggo Mortensen is a poet. He also has his own boutique publishing house. It is closed to submissions but I texted him and he agreed to look at my manuscript “David Bowie in middle earth” It’s a collection about Russian mafia in London invading the Ukraine on flimsy pretext. He said he’ll get back to me in 6 to 8 weeks.




Things happen. The skies are happening blue, the flowers happen on the stems. Come into being. Human being. Verbs have a special relationship with the words to and I. Verbs are dependent on these two words in many different contexts. To for the world and I for you.


The green pills are from China, they feature a little engraved image on their upper face. It is of a lemming in a viking helmet. The image is inaccurate, the helmet has horns. If the lemming wore this helmet into battle, other creatures would grab the horns and breaks its neck. In China the colour green symbolises bonelessness of the penis.



Please note: you must use Prepositions when you are breastfeeding.
I know a friend who loved Dane. I once dated a Dane, but she was mental and I had to flee as she said she wanted to have my child, which I told her wasn’t possible as bear sperm cannot fertilise a human egg.
Don’t give it a thought. Prepositions store themselves. You may have to put them in their place, though, and they might not stay where you put them.


Yeah I really like the Wordpharmacy Morten, I’m just not sure it’s appropriate for a psychiatrists waiting room.



Fainting fits. Cramps. Can be serious. Awareness disorders. Loss of place. Loss of self. Dilated pupils. Ischuria (urine retention). This can be, or can become, serious. Speak to a poet.


The yellow pulls made me realise that “don’t eat yellow snow” is a pretty sound rule but I would warn against eating any kind of weather.



Sense of personal unreality or personal alienation. Loss of place. Loss of self. Loss. Pathological euphoria. Mania. Retarded ejaculation. Impotence. Orgasmic difficulties. Diminished sexual desire. Anxiety, confusion, indifference. Increased sexual desire. Lengthy, painful erections. Male lactation.



The noun to torture is not exclusively used by poets but was invented by a poet. His name was William Piper, his own father was a chemist, and after a successful music and acting career, he said to torture when trying to describe how hard it was to write verse in German after the second world war.



Oedema (fluid retention), hypersensitivity. Hair loss. Increased sensitivity to sunlight, photosensibility. Minor haemorrhages in skin and mucous membranes. Panic attacks. Teeth grinding. Namelessness. Heightened risk of bone fractures. Aggressiveness.



What Michael Kohlhaas taught me was that Danes love words, they love pharmacists, and they love milk, and this inspirational tale of a pharmacist who uses words to milk a goat taught me that a man should follow his dreams, at the expense of women, down the darkest pharmaceutical wordhole available.





They know when you were born and they will know when you die.
Fizzy tears, meat tornado, the only gold digger I’d sleep with would be a literal alloy stormshovel, the kind used to clear yellow snow
Over-consumption of Numerals can diminish the body’s ability to absorb minerals.


I am deaf, destroyer of worlds. Whatever doesn’t kill you, gets you later.




SJ Fowler is a poet, artist, martial artist & vanguardist. He works in the modernist and avant garde traditions, across poetry, fiction, sonic art, visual art, installation and performance. He has published five books, including Enemies: selected collaborations (Penned in the Margins 2013) and been commissioned by the Tate, Mercy, the Liverpool Biennial and the London Sinfonietta. He is the poetry editor of 3am magazine and is the curator of the Enemies project.