Amantine Brodeur is an explorer of language and of the universes hidden within words. Her most recent work appears in Paragraph Planet, 100 Days of Solitude, and in the forthcoming 'Deep time' edition from Black Bough Poetry. Her work will also be featured in Pink Plastic House during the summer. Amantine is currently completing fiction piece The Anaphora House, commissioned by Thrice Magazine, which will publish her work A Scattering of Tongues, based on Samuel Beckett's women, in November 2020. Her work has also made two competition shortlists, and will be published in one of these forthcoming anthologies published by Hedgehog Press.
If I were born to eat Joy,
I’d wolf it down at the crack
of Dawn; that sliver of light
edged in dew – And in that
swallowing of Gaiety, I’d feel
the brush of wingtips graze
my throat. A thousand Starlings
murmuring the spiral descent
into spacious ardour, no more
defined or prescribed than this
Once upon a time, where The Bosporus imbued the Marmara Sea,
our dense salinity rose upward. In this rich up-swelling we drank up
all our silt. Like laundry, we spread our lives openly breasted to the
wind and tall trees, our dyed sails ripped and unstitched.
The remains of our wooden ships, unmasked in in this wild stillness.
In this vertical motion of water and lint, we’re holding fast along darker
edges, turning salt into air, and us into a study of porous water.
You lark the heart of my frivolous wing; beat the soar
of my day, dark - and wondrous. You play discordant
against love’s laughter. You line the shore, gull-cawed
to fishing the tackle of our mindplay: Pretending the
afternoon’s cool swagger into dusk against the tide, when
the sun slides deep into the awe that floors me. You hip
the jilt of poppy stems, red, to become my jalopy poison.
You are my proposition hazard, you’re the In-between of
Auden and ice-cream: The string to trip my fall. You’ve
become my voyage across God, into Reason . . .
and none at all.
All poems: exclusive first publication by iamb