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[untitled yule tide]— draft, page 9

[untitled yule tide]— draft, page 9

a calendar of salt & tides
& birds scything the full sky

it took me so long to write this
it’s over — but that’s

the way with everything we
say in unison with briny

tongues— tide me
over — if you put 

something in a circle— no one
will want to cross it

•for April I will try to work out one page of a draft per day from a long poem in sections of 10 pages each

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[untitled yule tide]— draft, page 8

[untitled yule tide]— draft, page 8

seastruck grid of skies 
a whole year— more

skies than days
in five days I saw

at least sixty skies —
gray wool—broken orange 

glass—burning—oystershell—
gray cool—boyfull—clearing blue—

mirror calm—gentle cloud commas—
whirled up storm waves—

•for April I will try to work out one page of a draft per day from a long poem in sections of 10 pages each

•opening 3 lines in response to Mary Burger’s Skies of 2020 — for example https://www.instagram.com/p/CIEBwR8BCg2/ — but I haven’t yet responded to this work in the manner it deserves

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[untitled yule tide]— draft, page 7

[untitled yule tide]— draft, page 7

in marginalia season—
hawkless salt-hag

the tide adds or subtracts 
a causeway— a lightening

line between the deeper
blues & though I

look with adoration at these
lines for hours 

nothing comes
back to me

•for April I will try to work out one page of a draft per day from a long poem in sections of 10 pages each

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[untitled yule tide]— draft, page 6

[untitled yule tide]— draft, page 6

at this time of a winter’s day one can see
the light turn & begin to flake & burn 

& while it’s a turn I always notice
something far away changes key

there is no perfect
line except the wrackline

which is infallible
it’s too cold to do

anything complicated
come to bed     come to bed     come to bed

•for April I will try to work out one page of a draft per day from a long poem in sections of 10 pages each

•first two lines are from J.A. Baker’s The Peregrine, entry for 21 December

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[untitled yule tide]— draft, page 5

[untitled yule tide]— draft, page 5

the sky keeps bright 
eyes on us — we 

look up into the cold
the tide makes

a friction like
a song in glass

that is     the tide sings
while it spins in glass 

so deep midwinter the light turns iron
there is no end to your tongue

•for April I will try to work out one page of a draft per day from a long poem in sections of 10 pages each

•the tide singing in glass is after Luke Jerram’s acoustic installation / sculpture “Tide” : https://www.lukejerram.com/tide/

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[untitled yule tide]— draft, page 3

[untitled yule tide]— draft, page 3

we move singularly like
a liquid — soft shallows

what if instead of horizon
lines we read low

drain tides     boats soft aground     the middle
littoral sugar kelp woven — I will never have

enough I say to your
sleeping inscrutable shape

snow on snow     snow 
on snow     fallow waves

•for April I will try to work out one page of a draft per day from a long poem in sections of 10 pages each

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[untitled yule tide]— draft, page 2

[untitled yule tide]— draft, page 2

the sky spangled with crows
a night body of water

serrated wrack     saw wrack     toothed wrack
rockweed spiraled tidy into 

a whole universe — bladderwrack 
is a cunt in the granite—

textured   uncertain driftlines
things aren’t always so

conscientious as to draw
their soft edges for us

•for April I will try to work out one page of a draft per day from a long poem in sections of 10 pages each

•the image of rockweed spiraled into a tidy universe is a response to the work with seaweed by artist Jeannet Leendertse, (on insta @jeannet_leendertse)

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[untitled yule tide]— draft, page 1

[untitled yule tide]

on the east coast in winter     above or below the tide-line     
one walks in water or in mud     there is no dry land 

clam holes in mud
& sand— why not

look to that like the sky—
winter fishery

tradition says clams are common property
& the flats unleasable—

birds try & fail to gyre— at least
for a while— the middle of the water is a window

•for April I will try to work out one page of a draft a day from a long poem in sections of 10 pages each

•first two lines are from J.A. Baker’s The Peregrine, entry for 3 December.