By Laura Mullen
Darkish archive: the aim of a dismal archive is to operate as a repository for info that may be used as a failsafe in the course of catastrophe recovery.
Laura Mullen’s fourth assortment is a chain of fantastically interrelated poems that explores find out how to properly characterize the truth of switch and loss. Mullen pinpoints what's at stake: the opportunity of verbal exchange and connection—and the desire of intimacy. Invoking Wordsworth’s "I wandered lonely as a cloud," she pushes experiments in attention opposed to their limitations in an array of poetic types. Poetic tropes are measured opposed to usual phenomena as Mullen examines what "witness" could suggest within the context of the aftermath of storm Katrina, the disasters of capitalism to influence social justice, the homicide of James Byrd in Texas, the non-public lack of a mom determine, and a disintegrating love affair.
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Extra resources for Dark Archive (New California Poetry, Volume 32)
Having experimented with the representation Tilted plane picture plane window candle cloud mirror shade Under the pale grit of the surface faint lines Fallen pine needles under fallen snow under more recently More or less clear caught instances Slant reference or rather comparison loves doves Stanzas little white Boxes of ash poem columbarium Restless flutter from place to place looking for what Glittery plane Passing Boxes of moonlight reference suggestions as if light were lent existence “Open the box the words inside the box open the box” (Carol Snow): the sense of the thing through the words for not ‘in’ so there is no—despite the opening—way to release.
It’s murder getting over now or never. Wet ever. S. So. So. So solo soul, oh so soluble soma. Dark harbors. Sea? D. A-lights in the last call a tight swallow—god and gone—a fraud of your own shadow. Cold coda. Cod 44 The White Box of Mirror Dissolved Is Not Singular White for diluting dreams Cy Twombly Sun or eye or boat or stiff reeds on a small island rising out of their own reflection A surface alluded to these ambiguous traces seeming to undulate like a spill of cloud against cloud or a pale drift net deep in a white ocean These airs made of what remains of a repeated gesture To begin with nothing I won’t tell anyone what you say here the water promises and the reeds take it up as a whisper which reaches at last the very ears gossip discovers A reiterated not makes at once as surface as if removed and as modulated its horizon too high a landscape the auditor is led always deeper into and shut out of lead on lead You’ll tell I know you will A “counter-love .
Hole Barely larger than a pin prick on one surface Inside: A) your own eye reflected shadow upside down B) smear of cloud [all I love] C) three words Wandered lonely as White box to be dissolved Behind the bars A song or show not mine snowing Our representative Having broken the thermometer Holds out a ball of mercury in one slightly shaking hand Disintegrates sheared off By wind to reveal the thread-like textures ■ It’s the worked surface that has remained—despite the obvious intention and effort—both illegible and ‘white’ or blank insofar as we understand that space to be empty.