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Bramer - Precious Energy

Here you can read online Bramer - Precious Energy full text of the book (entire story) in english for free. Download pdf and epub, get meaning, cover and reviews about this ebook. City: Toronto, year: 2017, publisher: BookThug;Ebound, genre: Art. Description of the work, (preface) as well as reviews are available. Best literature library LitArk.com created for fans of good reading and offers a wide selection of genres:

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Bramer Precious Energy
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    Precious Energy
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Precious Energy, the fourth collection of poetry from Hamilton-born poet and playwright Shannon Bramer, is a uniquely playful collection of vibrantly sad, peculiar, and often funny poems about domestic life, motherhood, and the baffled child that remains within us all even as we grow up and into whatever person we keep trying to become. Featuring a coterie of subjects, from fish sticks and LEGO pieces to mothers too tired to have sex and solitary swans in everyones basement, these poems dexterously navigate a landscape of domestic isolation, insecure attachments, and confused personal boundaries with honesty and unexpected humour.--;9781771663328_PreciousEnergy -- white paper birds -- first snow -- about a wedding -- three dioramas -- precious energy: a triptych -- rectangles -- lego love poem -- the cold feel of the forks and knives -- the facebook poem -- painted red stones -- to make my mother happy i am -- if i lose her -- let her -- that child in front of the tv -- snowman -- the toy -- dirty little love poem -- the land of thieves -- spaghetti with haruki -- the days of the fox -- not a cat -- a woman#x80;#x99;s open mouth -- carry me -- when you are sad you must also

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first edition Copyright 2017 by Shannon Bramer all rights reserved No part - photo 1
first edition Copyright 2017 by Shannon Bramer all rights reserved No part - photo 2
first edition Copyright 2017 by Shannon Bramer all rights reserved No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The production of this book was made possible through the generous assistance - photo 3 The production of this book was made possible through the generous assistance of the Canada Council for the Arts and the Ontario Arts Council. BookThug also acknowledges the support of the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and the Government of Ontario through the Ontario Book Publishing Tax Credit and the Ontario Book Fund. Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication Precious energy / Shannon Bramer.
Poems. Issued in print and electronic formats. Title. Title.

PS8553.R269P74 2017 C811.54 C2017-905400-7
C2017-905401-5 cover image by Michael Pittman
author photograph by Linda Marie Stella

this book is for my mother
When Milly woke up there was make-up all over her pillow. Fred Eaglesmith
White Paper Birds
Sometimes you have to breastfeed your kid even when you dont feel like breastfeeding your kid. Near the end of her feed she pulls off to look at you with her round eyes and you dont look away. Sometimes you have to sing your kid to sleep even when you dont feel up to any song. When you put her down she cries, she always cries. You pick her up when you are a piece of glass.

You kiss her and kiss her and pick her up and put her down and kiss her again like a wolf. You are a real mother. You dont kick or break any toys on purpose. And you dont scream and you dont weep. Your baby grows. Youve got a shiny red shovel for all your shitty feelings.

Youve got a daughter with a broken lip where shes been biting down. The house is full of nests. Tiny piles of torn newsprint, a million crumpled swans swimming down the stairs. Another life folded inside each paper bird.

First Snow
Going home the small icy way you said it hurt her She walked away he could see her open You didnt understand and then wanted Did you dream about her again yes did she call Her hands and we didnt wait for it to start snowing The car was parked poorly she needed help No if you touch me again you wont be able to Look everywhere for her boots where did you put It down and the mice are trapped so you know Inside her over it now and home Did you say the laundry was incomplete What will we do with her medication Wait if you can to help fold and put them She is not going to come back is she did he do Something wrong he said it had nothing Up against the window her head felt Cold before she started following me downstairs When you pushed her away so I could cook Dinner properly
About A Wedding
Pete should have been invited. Customers. Customers.

My mother wore a tuxedo. We had to watch our numbers, so no children. No Pete. I felt a bit sloppy. My dress had spaghetti straps that kept slipping from my shoulders. We had a rectangle for a table instead of a circle, which still bothers me when I think about it.

It was October. I dont regret the chrysanthemums or the devilled eggs sprinkled with cumin; I wish I got to have one. The church was a choice, like folk music. Like Tom Waits. Im happy to remember dancing with my two fathers at once, because now I have none. No Pete of the horses and trees.

My stepsisters refused to show up. The chocolate cake tasted like a funeral home. One of my bridesmaids puked in the limo. None got on my dress but a bit got in my hair. Thats how it goes with weddings.

Three Dioramas
Its not an easy oblivion, for example sometimes I still love my collarbones Tipsy is a baby buried in a tree Passed-out is a solitary swan in the basement, forgetting light Oblivion a bruise the size of a cruise ship shitfaced shit faced is a mother of three a mother of three I said Whats wrong with me is also whats wrong with my mother I cry straight into his eyelashes I pee through my new dress I kiss her hands I fold laundry I cant move Your grandson is growing like a tombstone She plays with tomatoes she smells green like vines I love dirt I hate dirt on his noodles dont worry once the bunnies black out you might have some sex a husband stop hiding your purse be resilient my bunnies my babies We touch the gills of the girl who left her sisters little faces, fingers after supper we love our iridescent mermaids dish soap bubbles sea foam after I dry my hands a few petals drop from the lilies on the table its a story of resignation verisimilitude we touch the silent girl once upon a time she had all the things i wanted a father a brother a beautiful voice her tail turns to legs she misses her tail her poor legs hurt oh mama they hurt all the time
Precious Energy: A Triptych
dazzling white towels the size of blankets I think towels are revealing.
Three Dioramas
Its not an easy oblivion, for example sometimes I still love my collarbones Tipsy is a baby buried in a tree Passed-out is a solitary swan in the basement, forgetting light Oblivion a bruise the size of a cruise ship shitfaced shit faced is a mother of three a mother of three I said Whats wrong with me is also whats wrong with my mother I cry straight into his eyelashes I pee through my new dress I kiss her hands I fold laundry I cant move Your grandson is growing like a tombstone She plays with tomatoes she smells green like vines I love dirt I hate dirt on his noodles dont worry once the bunnies black out you might have some sex a husband stop hiding your purse be resilient my bunnies my babies We touch the gills of the girl who left her sisters little faces, fingers after supper we love our iridescent mermaids dish soap bubbles sea foam after I dry my hands a few petals drop from the lilies on the table its a story of resignation verisimilitude we touch the silent girl once upon a time she had all the things i wanted a father a brother a beautiful voice her tail turns to legs she misses her tail her poor legs hurt oh mama they hurt all the time
Precious Energy: A Triptych
dazzling white towels the size of blankets I think towels are revealing.

If I go to someones house to sleep and they sayoh, Ive left some towels on the bedI race right over to see them. I like when towels match, are fluffy. Suzanne (who is still single) has dazzling white towels the size of blankets. Jennifer and her husband Tim keep two kinds of towels: buttery yellow hooded towels for their three small children and thick green (sage?) towels for themselves and their guests. I was drunk at a party they had recently and stumbled into their walk-in linen closet. They had beautiful sheets and pillowcases, too.

I stayed in there for a long time. a generous woman with shabby towels My towels, on the other hand, look like the towels of someone who has given up. When people stay with us I always give each guest at least three towels. I insist on providing clean towels every day. Im generous with my towels even if the towels themselves are shabby. My husband and I have never spent money on good towels.

Whenever we find ourselves in a place where we might buy some new ones we always change our minds or pretend to forget. I pretend to forget. I dont think my husband cares about towels. He often uses the same one for weeks before deciding to take a fresh one. I pretend to forget about my desire for new towels because I dont want to ask him for extra money. I dont want him to know that Im thinking about towels, or my friends towels.

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