Tag Archives: Andrew Cantrell

A Noise in Fixed Order

We alit beside the star-like bird      dry-eyed      frowning. One of two                         birds made a noise in fixed order      and we looked at them nearly      and at                                                                                                                                                          the flowers and leaves that imbricated them      broken and stylized      with the wind’s                         discomfited graze. As we staggered the star-like … Continue reading

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Not Shifting

Star-like the bird discovered our troubled laughter while we woke in drawn                         alertness. It alighted nearby with great silence and keen appreciative                                                                                                                                              solicitude. We crouched surprisedly. The star-like bird renewed its grin and scattered                         again      this time crossing a bloom of … Continue reading

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Discernment

Two birds      and we      valued our delights scornfully      composed in a                         waiting preciosity. The star-like bird      inclined toward our scrupulous attachments      read uncertain phrases with warbling distillation.                         We approached and formulated its strained pretense as discovery. The bird separated its talk from whistling and fastened … Continue reading

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Relic, Relict

Two birds feared hurried letters. Equally we felt their blood eddy                         dispersive in ferment      and a disquieting stabilization of lack. The star-like bird tarried there      serried in letters and fixed to them                         in miserable dialect      and companionable in array      immuring two                                                 birds’ blood      in observances … Continue reading

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Divergent

Wearily we gathered wiry and noisy with points of view      strange and grass-like                         our blood a sprung singing      and sang suspiciously. We dropped our hands                                                 seriously. After a swinging or gathering      that fluttered away a bewildering scree                         of branch-wiring      points of view advanced heavily      pressing … Continue reading

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