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Amanda Earl - Sessions from the Dream House Aria

12/29/2015

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Picture
Session 1: Starched Afternoons and Sedative Evenings

the nothing landscape

has lost its everything
composed as frost mirage
ice cracked in visible

compliance the struggle
of texture over glide
swirl or less
the missing and the wanting
mouth a lacuna
searches for cold
numb thicked tectonic
throat song for the viscous

immovable mess
la loo sway
decembers requiem or
dish of the

day  is angled
light
fragility
landslide

bowling for picket fences
before the film
the screen empty
and silent music

i  have eaten the blank
berries and decided
to die
the white noise
of highway traffic over
ice will kill you
the blinds open and
close and close
there is no
code here the moon  

no more than a
delicate exile building
to its beige crescendo
unravels the

catgut composition
into quarter notes
you look for order in
clouds to mask
the sheen of particle and part

there is no revol
ution no matter how many
times the sun

you are a milk
blind actor a
crocodile immovable tear
nothing but gibberish

in the southbound contra dreams
of a knight clad in matte
armour on his way
to a drowned

chiaro scuro lily
shroud and wax holy
mass at graveside in the
fog with the snow

falling through the noon sun
the saddest
is noon
in winter starpulsed

as countpoint minus symphony
what have i lost
locked in a fairytale
a snow white let down

castles ruined by melting
remember the once
upon a time
thorns for your broken mythologies

ice chunked  sepulchres
excavated from barren rivers
what is clean, antipoetic, emberwhite
a ritual of mourners  in cotton

a chant into the well of light
footfall of  slow
measures over limestone  
an open gate

in the dirge
the precise and mechanical
movement of bones
focus is relentless  sharp,  indiscriminate

a brace of arrowed fears indent
skin unpierced
a pale falcon
in flight, its ghost

listless in the drifts
air bubbles shift to ice
the slosh of absence
muted white heat

of hypothermic
fingers posed in stiff
come hither a skeleton
reliquary of tibia and cuticles
a swans bent

neck brittle and eternal how many
times have you told me
this ghost story
the crystal bright scream

jangling all my starched
afternoons and blurred
sedative evenings smear
the dream over bedsheets

the silhouette of a
bell rings a distant
havoc above the winding
ice the spine of a footbridge

silent lure to ordinary 
to walk out of worlds
on the horizon near flattened  
peripheries just out of 

reach the cold 
bleached metal rail 
unfreezes refugee drips
falling into cracked 

moments
each fissure collapses 
into catacombs
depth gauged in petrified c

anticles  a choir sings 
its lint white aria of halleluhs
the chalked gowns
luminadipped in buckets of lime 

spectrum into solstice 
powder into borders
into the sleet rimed
boreal forest of lace

a glacial melody
of wind over ice

the sea down jellied
perspect 
picked clean
soft clouded nucleus

of an eye rolling under
the spray of brine
and anemone frozen
waves breaking overhead

brace yourself
the whiteout begins
first in the mountains
then in  the plains

accumulated 
legends 
of vikings and kings 
weathered in the long
trapped nights 

tales of apparitions feather touch
on eyelids closed against the squall
wings where arms should be
a bright halo and sparkling tears
viewed in the granular pattern
​
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