Amantine Brodeur

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the poet

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.

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the poems

Starlings

00:00 / 00:57

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

fictions room.

Holding Space

00:00 / 01:20

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.

Jalopy Poison

00:00 / 03:29

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.

Publishing credits

All poems: exclusive first publication by iamb

© original authors 2020

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