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grief notes:
rob mclennan
BlazeVOX [books]Buffalo, NY
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grief notes: by rob mclennanCopyright 2012Published by BlazeVOX [books]
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproducedwithout the publishers written permission, except for briefquotations in reviews.
Printed in the United States of America
Book design by Geoffrey Gatza
First EditionISBN: 978-1-60964-066-8Library of Congress Control Number: 2011940640
BlazeVOX [books]76 Inwood PlaceBuffalo, NY 14209
BlazeVOX [ books ]blazevox.org
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says, dont sit there; technicolour,trace cold & carbon skin
at the edge of pain,life happens
no recollectionof ordinary things, a silence
poured mercury-deep,grew constant, more confused
what isbut the whiteness
, moon, increasingtear,
made visible by loss,
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a far & constant symmetry,gesticulated,
a memory, at having left
so help me; tell methat the earth is flat, & crumbles
thin, the edge
avoid falling, falling; mouthis always wrong, answers
speech out, certain words
red eyes, the middleof a mid-step, night
straight, in their surroundings
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held, to my attraction; halfway through the recipe,the sweethearts of the tables offering
heard her say the possibilitiesof trust,
miles past & borders; dream,these larger rooms,
these trenches,
legs wet, aboveour knees,
cry out spontaneity; a callof parting, parts
no matter what, we knowwe know we matter
no matter what gets said,
because dialogue no longer exists,oppresses;
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cold, I reach downsuddenly; what hope through bars,
a two-way traffic,
sentences, fillwith ice,
the last roomdown a corridor;
echo out lessserious remarks; a language
marked with snarks, & sneers
; what matters?whats the (even) point?
sky turns black; the dishescome to forefront,
broke,
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the past tense, journeyingthis forth-and-back
useless; candlelight,the ship was prone to sink
another piece of good advice; stayquiet, keep
to small;
a pot with holes, on purpose
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the broad lines of a housein vanier, wept
close enough to sorrow
constructingto expand,
gone beyond those dull lights, full& even;
by day the balding lake,by night a slip of limbs
drift back into seclusion
surface parched & smootha dream of depth, a coating,
it formed; a rain of splattered hearts,limp bodies,
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a cartoon mouse, the brick,the cartoon cat,
the moonis filled with iron ore
& jade
made up from my tongue; thin smokeas flat as a (precisely) page
or headache,
numbers; words,she says, another
youtube link,
cinematic scenes to code, unending,heartbreak songs,
dont matter, says,matter,
do you,
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we add a drawer to shock,embellish,
on, & on
the redness of eyes; a caution,sand & soup & severance,
says, cant live in a shell
what takes it? marked the edgeswith the skin of a lion, string
robed in rose gardens: empty, insect hopes
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