McNair - Conflict

CONFLICTCONFLICT Christine McNair BookThug / 2012 FIRST EDITION copyright Christine McNair, 2012 The production of this book was made possible through the generous assistance of The Canada Council for The Arts and The Ontario Arts Council. 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. Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication McNair, Christine, 1978 Conflict / Christine McNair. Poems. Title. Title.

PS8625.N33C65 2012 C811.6 C2012-901065-0 to Rick McNair ( 1942-2007 ) & the valkyries the in ability to love the inability to love Ghost Song , Jack Spicer but I live by a kind of resistance The Sad Phoenician, Robert Kroetsch It hardly matters why a library is destroyed: every banning, curtailment, shredding, plunder or loot gives rise (at least as a ghostly presence) to a louder, clearer, more durable library of the banned, looted, plundered, shredded or curtailed. The Library at Night, Alberto Manguel Unentworden, alleroten, sammle dich, steh. Threadsuns, Paul Celan MOON AT 3 AM, REFLECTED Like a cut fish, I feel for the light on the tips, the grace found in nailbeds or on the ridge of a storm, things that cannot call out their own name, silenced by yelps and pitches, a night gone purple with cold. Only a step between what is and what isnt a break in the throat. I dream of white waters in cold glass, a reckoning a breaking hope. MY PROBLEM WITH MACHINES might have begun with the jolly jumper swinging shit all over my mothers back wall content as a lamb, crescent smile then the bikes, always hobbling and falling, the uneasy way my spine curved over the handlebars and the cars, the two I crashed each broken at the centre, unfixable a permanent scream of metal and glass the plane is supposed to be safest, walls curved against unpredictable traffic crash acts of god but the height tugs at my nervous brings out mysterious hail marys half-learned from a catholic friend it tickles the back of my neck as I pitch forward through wide fuselage, flying seats, empty fingers, lost safety cards RAKINGS each September, each tidal lunar ripchord cold apples bleed pulp while leaves pixelate dipped red ink over macerated gold slashing, chrysographic ohs and ahs soldered into sun-stunned vein. MY PROBLEM WITH MACHINES might have begun with the jolly jumper swinging shit all over my mothers back wall content as a lamb, crescent smile then the bikes, always hobbling and falling, the uneasy way my spine curved over the handlebars and the cars, the two I crashed each broken at the centre, unfixable a permanent scream of metal and glass the plane is supposed to be safest, walls curved against unpredictable traffic crash acts of god but the height tugs at my nervous brings out mysterious hail marys half-learned from a catholic friend it tickles the back of my neck as I pitch forward through wide fuselage, flying seats, empty fingers, lost safety cards RAKINGS each September, each tidal lunar ripchord cold apples bleed pulp while leaves pixelate dipped red ink over macerated gold slashing, chrysographic ohs and ahs soldered into sun-stunned vein.

All a-thunder, branches shake then close semaphored hearts beat back unarticulated motion, echo thin days sunk with the open archaeological memory of a cupped hand. LOST COSMONAUT arms drag webbed cirrus punch past stratosphere come in . come in what? yes yes breathing our transmission begins its all I feel hot thirty-two our transmission begins now forty-one yes I can see a flame a flame our transmission . forty-one forty-one forty-one forty-one forty-one forty-one TEMP we have an easy dress code here, take many breaks, smoke cigarettes, let bitter chocolate melt It is permitted to display tattoos, play music, make long distance phone calls but pin yourself to demands, supply crosscheck inventory, clear dates you may be forgotten, someone we hire one week and cant remember the next (some mild milky girl her smile tucked in on itself) we will see what we can do about the view about the pay the hours are good, you can come and go as you please the benefits: poor INSTRUCTION banish thickets, look for streetcars in silver-grey dim, hover between dark things & the collected prescient order of headlights, bite your fingers, a tooths edge slunk against cuticles dont look at the burden kneading your shoulders or it grows, opens wide lids semiconduct a pitched out day not worth remembering the taste of almonds & apples distance immeasurable calendar squares spent mourning that chauffered wreck of hit & run THE STATE WERE IN horizons from highways in waves a hollowed flow of falling away maps go black electrostat negative a kingdom of secrets stitched into lawn care were somewhere or should be or might be or could we steal pictures of kiwis pink lipstick parrot wings our chests clammy with tap water music slants to broken cello house sounds hidden swallowing stories as if they were sins runways creased with wreckage useless vessels gone flat to static the pressure of one finger reflective tarmac echo thick INTERLUDE: TIME MACHINE PART I Christine is a knuckle laced with ribbon growls puts petal to metal is giggling is sunlight on the lino and her lungs are not speaking to one another is two fortunes in one cookie oh dear is still a kind of blue but also in a sentimental mood is a kind of blue is a shipping company that operates the Moss-Horten Ferry the most trafficked ferry route in Norway hits the road Jack is in love with an antiphonal is dance me to the end has archived away 2008 may have just eaten the worlds most perfect avocado destroys herself one cuticle at a time is too young to understand object permanence is brought to you by the letter W is my enemies only had sass and all I had was nerve glows in the dark had fun with her comrade in arms and came home to an acceptance letter whoo is a figment of your imagination is come Armageddon come every day is like Sunday is shushy shush shush is theyre dreadfully fond of beheading people here must be shutting up like a telescope is stuck underground follows the rabbit is half-hearted craves lilacs thinks dead aviators should not have profiles jumped the river in three good strides bites into a bittersweet heart is listening to Wild America real loud embraces your paraskavedekatriaphobia is when the night is cloudy there is still a light that shines on me there will be an answer let it be is quickly running out of margin dances with a ghost across palais des papes tilework lux flux is very fragile it is fortunate that she has been digitised and that the library has a facsimile is high functioning is a long way to go without a map reads tonight at Cafe Nostalgica pm and you want to be there oh yes you do dont argue with her she knows that thing you did last summer is a stranger is sleep drunk Joe DiMaggio and Tom Stoppard got into a fight Singapore Airlines flight crew cheering what is glad Degan came to visit O-wa he feeds her addiction to sad songs whoo disagrees with her dream is writing letters no one will ever read smiles as she tumbles is fun is enjoying a bottle of design time makes the dough and you get the glory sings a duet of Doctor Blind into the phone is cloistered is somewhere between here and there is keep on calling me names keep on keep on is uncertain reads this afternoon at the bywords launch there will be reading and a launch shell probably wear a frock misses her uncle hides is listening to Miserere Tallis Scholars enjoyed listening to the other readers is stupidly nervous about reading tonight reads tonight; one of many launching the latest issue of ottawater.com is the bookbinders newsletter also maybe the new poems what should Andrea and Christine name the penguin theyll be ice sculpting doesnt want isnt sure cant say dunno wont should she go to tree or should she go to poetic intentions or should she hide under her bedspread is crushing your head is kinda stupid sometimes bah who is right who can tell and who gives a damn right now I had dreams that frightened me awake I happened to escape but my escape would never come I love it never stops is an overdose of Joy Division is a dream hangover full of cloudy impossibilities heard the excellent messagio should sleep is reading Paul Celan instead of sleeping looks forward to raising Cain in two cities today is lucky to know you beauties damn skippy takes to the sky had fun last night with those nice poet fellas stakes her heart on it buck-o is pages has plans for her firecracker weekend goes to watch the inauguration in the CCI cafeteria feels like school is a handful of clanging keys shook so hard dreamt roses on the mistral is limitless undying love which shines around me like a million suns it calls me on and on across the universe has spoken twice (briefly) in the past five days thinks maybe she should go out today thinks good thoughts for Paul quietly listens is better on paper writes in a fever with a fever of a fever is a text message on the news I landed in the Hudson smiles in flames remains virulent listening to an unhealthy amount of Mazzy Star Fiona Apple and the Jesus&Mary chain owns a plethora of puffers just found four different kinds has the consumption where are her violets her French lace handkerchiefs her artful settee feels fourteen the answer to all is clearly Concrete Blonde burns across the horizon haunts the visible world with spectral grace is pretty blissed out is port chocolate fondue a massage and Nordic baths this afternoon looks forward to tomorrow sets a match to it now knows that Baltic amber is iridescent under uv light is tightroping learnt that though similar in appearance nail polish remover pads are not the same as eye makeup remover pads and should not be used on your eyes has written pages in the past three days for her long(ish) poem is ha-ha this a-way ha-ha that a-way ha-ha this a-way man oh man will soon hurl her manuscript into the world and is writing a tricky long(ish) poem dreams without concession dreamt Manhattan silver veiled acrobats frozen cherries a flowering moon misses Amy everythings less sparkly breaks swears fumbles drops loses finds repairs sleeps kicks at the darkness till it bleeds daylight is going to be all kinds of reckless tonight oh yes you come right over here and explain why theyre having another year! Dorothy Parker I too am not a bit tamed I too am untranslatable considers the shape scope and temperament of a perilous window is happy to have seen Sue + Tom and waves bye to a disappearing Hyundai can be seen in certain conditions and under the right lighting is pretend likes the witchy wind even though it slammed open her front door sketches out days unknown tumbles up and down stairs minds the gap is Cowboy Junkies & sparkling wine & early to bed sings Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas to friends flung across time-zones her long lost novas ties ribbons folds paper nips her fingers hums Too Sober to Sleep amidst silver bows & fools gold paper unpretties herself craving a dream blank sleep keeps looking at the window edits herself thoroughly anticipates Hanukkah fun with Kim in Burlington is Toronto-ed blesses the highway with her beatdown Sentra again gets the hell out of Ottawa in hours threads the line between holly and humbug fills with Christmas rage is tired of being tired nauseous tired but at least she makes excellent mint chocolate cookies holds herself together cyanoacrylateishly is one of the sexiest artists in Ottawa Amanda says so My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But ah my foes and oh my friends It gives a lovely light