Love in the archive
My lumberjack shirt is speaking among the bubbles
took them out of the liberry
working nostalgia like a new glove
The hour itself is lace, nipple of the clock
if cup if
me swallow you crouched on their capital
all over again is
Diving the absurd mostly when it makes sense
of your early work to see rough
through the layers sick higher
real women, big dimensions
from the point-of-view of a refined vampire
And oh how you women who are sealed
this hand over and this pass on
your pain management system a Morse piano
the human is easy happenstance fault of being
flesh and heart and liver and lungs and sweat
How dangerous this which skirts
between so real it lights up the clover
twisted no name, no hat
amid the mystic fields of
I wander'd and beheld a grove
that changes how a system
evolves with time and should
I not have had I might have
rusted in the forest
Yours are looking exceptionally
the original paintjob
Might I check out
that little ridge there?
from The Tolerance Project
Hi Kristen, there is nothing in this that interests me.
All of the implied violence of the first section has become more explicit through imagery relating to the female body, mollusks and their shells.
Who is speaking why – dust bunnies and the holocaust? I don’t get it.
Trust the beginning of books. Lightness can mean “want of force” and the sound of gunfire using words suggesting invagination: “draped,” “aperture,” “diptych,” “gusset,” “purl,” “pleated” and “rivelled.”
You call this a performative nature? In my Lustrelessness, norm, form and function are revealed as blithely editable. I want my terminal degree, but we’re not competing.
We’re all encased in plastic, then turned into an intonation beyond the irrigated “pirate” mind. Why not center your poems – both physically and theoretically?
Be more visual and visceral. If love poems are written in pidgin python, try a vignette about difficult communication extended beyond linguistic articulation inside the mouth and in or near the genital area.
Polemic is a bad riposte against the triumph of “whimsy,” but I want poetry to be funny. You might want to give up entirely, learn to write linearly and do your memoir.
Rachel Zolf’s fourth full-length book of poetry, Neighbour Procedure, was released by Coach House Books in spring, 2010. Zolf’s previous collections include Human Resources, which won the 2008 Trillium Book Award for Poetry and was a finalist for a Lambda Literary Award, Masque, Shoot & Weep, and Her absence, this wanderer. Her work is included in anthologies such as Prismatic Publics: Innovative Canadian Women’s Poetry and Poetics (Coach House) and a forthcoming anthology of conceptual writing from Les Figues Press. She has worked in documentary film and communications and was the founding poetry editor for The Walrus magazine. Her collaborative MFA in Creative Writing can be followed at thetoleranceproject.blogspot.com. Born in