UNINFLECTED PARTICLES:
A SIEVED CAHIER
indefinite article |
definite article |
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a baby or a very young child |
the amber road |
a beginning and then an end and a middle |
the amnesty of an amnesiac |
a beloved hairstyle |
the banality of commerce, neck luck |
a bride leaking petals |
the burning ship for the dead sent to sea |
a bucketed pour over |
the circle of one body around nobody |
a burial ground for women |
the colour of arterial blood |
a charm |
the condition of it |
a city made of waves |
the direction of a palm |
a cube of glass sinks to lake beds |
the fields of empty living rooms, car lobbies |
a dancer’s limbs |
the French verb attendre |
a deluge myth |
the fulsome flick |
a dark horse |
the gap between this and never |
a full lower lip |
the grill teeth of a step |
a galleon full |
the hedgehog's dilemma |
a game of who's done what with whom |
the invisible woman |
a group of small |
the involvement of stars |
a heart condition |
the kindly ones |
a hinterland |
the length of an elementary school |
a homophone |
the liquid density of sad waters |
a ken of keening |
the loss of a day or three |
a little too much |
the lumen, a perceived power of light |
a lyric method |
the lusatian culture in the early iron age |
a manual for identification and care |
the methyl mouth vapours |
a mutton lamb |
the milk line thickening |
a newspaper turnover |
the moon curve |
a thousand year photo |
the multiplication table cripples me |
a reduction |
the one thing I asked |
a sad babylonian or assyrian or hibernian |
the other's amazing stomach |
a salutary sun fetched from the sky |
the oval window mount of a daguerreotype |
a sensation of falling |
the parts of a curve where stroke is thickest |
a single freckle |
the preference for orchids |
a single piece of parchment rolled tightly |
the problem of choice |
a subset of a subset of a subset |
the rate of particles across a given surface |
a talisman to guard the bow |
the sad phone machine |
a test of metal |
the scar lateral to my design |
a thimble full of tequila |
the sickle sweet |
a tongue here, a palm, your thigh |
the sky |
a universe expanding |
the sound of voices bent against glass |
a vital component of ornamental objects |
the suffusion of grief from |
a weight of letter darkness |
the tenets you adhere to |
a well-washed shirt, my shirt |
the term infant |
a whole season |
the territorial pissings |
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the thickening of regret |
conjunction |
the weakening |
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the wolf and the cosmonaut |
if a beckon |
the wrong answer to every question |
if a bye bye baby bye bye |
the you undone |
if I am or am not |
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if I only had a brain |
possessive pronoun |
if that means anything to you |
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if you are not kind |
my amazing face |
if you cannot name it |
my answer |
if you love someone |
my attributes |
if you pretend me frostbit |
my black moods |
if you put your mind to it |
my complacent tongue |
if you stay inside |
my conversation privileged |
if you are going to do this |
my cousin Elizabeth says |
if we are pulsar |
my darkling bright |
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my dissolution aching |
conjunction |
my dream minding |
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my dyed liver, the bones of my dead mothers |
and a sigh, deep inhalation |
my fingers polish topaz |
and also to hide from the scrutiny of clergy |
my fists let go |
and between hiccups |
my friends dance up aisles, their faces |
and between standing stones |
my grandmother’s method for pain |
and boundaries of my unclaimed |
my grip upon you |
and days of no chlorophyll |
my happy home |
and didn’t mean |
my heart bicameral |
and dropped from several stories |
my heart’s ferment in glass jars |
and I meant to call you: but |
my knuckles bled |
and I tell you she isn’t |
my life preserved, tsunami |
and laid it out flat |
my life! |
and let slip |
my lost attributes |
and make MMMs all over, seagulls |
my lungs puffed out cloud silhouettes |
and on one foot a shoe |
my my eye eye oh yes |
and one and two and three |
my name unpronounceable |
and paper oracles |
my neck – the moon |
and seems |
my own personal Pandora’s box |
and smash grapevines into wreaths |
my pre-Raphaelite beauty graces endless etc. |
and so much more now than then |
my presence, the metaphor |
and swallow up collapsed linoleum |
my reckoned shoulder |
and the other bare |
my shirt fresh laundered |
and then |
my throat veiled |
and this is hard to explain |
my untouched elbow |
and tips of teal fireflies |
my untranslatable goodness |
and vibrate in jaw |
my wall of a wall |
and water pour over |
my weapon can be sword, sickle, pole arm |
and when I call, you answer |
my worth |
and you always told me no |
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and you never |
preposition and particle |
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preposition |
to a lamb’s bleat |
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to accurately remember |
from across this room |
to be reasonable |
from april until ice |
to burn for |
from her fingers |
to claim solace from stars |
from my hands |
to count dimes |
from pulp paper, a brittle baked |
to crack an egg |
from the craters on Io |
to do and places to be |
from the slightest movement |
to encompass a thimble |
from the start |
to erase the merest |
from your shoulder, the ways of stepping |
to go |
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to goddess or vegetation or pretty ghost |
preposition |
to heal tissue |
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to hear one melted syllable |
of a bitch in heat |
to hope and lose all coherence |
of a bracket worn over then pushed |
to illustrate the depths |
of a bridge rising above it |
to just about manage |
of deeds done |
to know your bones are made of water |
of a dowry |
to mail your little flame |
of a name |
to make it all better |
of dams or sudden loss |
to matter to you |
of dyed pulp wood and gardenias in bloom |
to my continued |
of each leaf through vein |
to my head and sent diagonal |
of escape velocity |
to nubs, flat pitched |
of ever evolving colour, no temperance |
to orbit |
of five year old girl with fists |
to realise |
of grief |
to realise you’d rather |
of holding onto a stem |
to rose, to mahogany, the elegant slide |
of invisibility |
to say I’m stake-bound |
of it stops, that doing |
to silhouette a bookmark |
of kicking it |
to singular |
of lake ice, what a mess |
to use ‘the dead’ |
of light, set on the tips of the fingernails |
to veil my throat, that you |
of long dead insects, the Baltic kind, forms |
to walk the whole way home |
of magazine covers in the rain, pulp mash |
to wander |
of me, my prescient character |
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of niceties, of greeting |
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of no artistic significance |
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of no purpose |
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of passive joy |
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of pure architecture |
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of sea |
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of thumbs |
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of us across tree lines |
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of warmth rising |
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of water pressure |