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Painting is a Name for Moving Surfaces

 

When I cannot find lavender-dusk emptiness—of libraries

faces and names, subtle organs, that which you make

invisible painting is the unseen—becoming sight

Images are triggers— realms we dare not name—theory baffles thorns

claws hair, wakes along wandering books—sleb, slepaz, sepal-sleep

Window-gold mistaking water for folded notes—to invisible plum trees

Some artists write the illegible to make misunderstanding

real— to name the places we lack.  I don’t

believe in lanced color, separate from ether, spindrift

She read to waters, nightly

They lay together speaking in lines from books

as if darkness were those spines opening, turning, closing

 

 

 

 

Take a picture of the middle of the page

begin with fortunetelling, fold

slips, shapes, bokiz, beech—that books were once trees

birch and ash, librum, inner bark of grove

We—as ruined garments (wrote from painting)

(look-look into rivers, garments, eyes, and sew)

We’d drunk only air

 

 

 

 

To paint in collage, kaleidoscopic gear, in foaming fonts

I only know how to spell sounds, not words
to converse with spun air

Painting is a mane for moving surfaces
Painting is a name for unlaced water
Lit beneathe
Painting is a name

 

 

 

 

Spell yourself of scents
letters, dirt memorabilia
crushed over the body
bath of irregular speech
Painting is anointing inner 
lids— eyes-blink and close

 

 

 

 

Seeing is memory we ignore
when sung, when drowned, upended
bridges water names

Painting is color petting a body
mornings never unclasp

Diligent tongue arched
spider, gossamer

lilac hand-frond

 


 

 

 

[Laynie Browne is author of thirteen collections of poems and three novels. Recent books include You Envelop Me (Omnidawn 2017), Periodic Companions (Tinderbox 2018) and The Book of Moments (Presses universitaires de Rouen et du Havre, 2018). Her honors include a 2014 Pew Fellowship, the National Poetry Series Award (2007) for her collection The Scented Fox, and the Contemporary Poetry Series Award (2005) for her collection Drawing of a Swan Before Memory.  Her poetry has been translated into French, Spanish, Chinese and Catalan. She teaches at University of Pennsylvania and at Swarthmore College.]

Copyright © 2018 by Laynie Browne, all rights reserved. This text may be used and shared in accordance with the fair-use provisions of Copyright law. Archiving, redistribution, or republication of this text on other terms, in any medium, requires the notification of the journal and consent of the author.



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