Thursday, July 5, 2007

FEATURING: Andrea Rexilius

The poetry and essays of Andrea Rexilius can
be found in the Denver Quarterly, P-Queue, Volt,
How2 and Cab/Net among others. Her secret dream
is to become a Russian speaking trapeze artist, or
a French speaking tight-rope walker or both.

Envelope / Hem


To be, to be made and structured. To be hollowed out and felled in. And ever on the
brink of furthering, ever on the brink of rapture. To rupture. To toil and burn in the echo
of outside. To envelop. To breathe in and hold as landscape. To lunge. To lean up
against the edge becoming. To pin a note in how the mouth expanding. To pin a map and
all its edgeless swarming body. To swarm again and whole.


In the distance some small figure is wielding us self. Who we are will be met with light.
The woman removes an egg. .from her it is made. .enamel and motion. .this is
true. .have faith.

Faith. My face speaks of. In the dark my name fades. Remains.

Imprinted. .where seams surface in me. .describing what is inside. .what is white.
the self is surface lined. a broad seam stitch. .carrying over to place. . what surface
gathered at said edges gathered a name, a named place.


Earth strikes the roof of my mouth; letters it certain part.
A stray scripture spoken. Faith does not act upon the body, as pulpit. Is what gravity is;
the voice in the vowel.

Certain parts of the body inhabit the world. A hem I approach. Teeth bite and bare the
tongue, hemming the tongue to its home.


[Arc the trellises: letters]

here will I spell me out
the world
shucked from my own skin

the whorled
fields a corresponding

portion of bone, exegesis

my life in this band of hemisphere

the edge an endless dwelling
exhales and moves back in my temple,

[She traces or transcribes upon the land]

She was captive in that land.

She saw captivity in that land she wore.

A fork in the road in the leg.

Another new dimension is manifest, blades of grass

stitch the skirt to earth.

“I wrote to depart and the small remnant became vagabond.

Millions did.

And saw the lord might be manifest in grains of pasture, eyelets

of wood.

Wood saw through the field of tree & the wilderness became restless


Seeing returned & she saw small insects where wood pealed back;

where words spoken nested in eyelids & she saw many towns destroyed.


The Garden is seen as elsewhere; the bedroom being the location of the moment.
False house plants to cover us when blinds are not bound.
Our eyes, persecuted animals; in allusion: spheres in which all hope is vested.

Thus the vessel embodied is seen everywhere, then first to exile.
Nothing eternal. A small remaining
number of nature enclosed in boxes & lockets, lover.


Address / Hem


Surface and dive down
what rising up erasing
relation no relation

I am the deer small noun.

in the forest
finite and of the waves
crowd me in my face
and the leaves leave
me to fashion myself


How knot is what we build next to, to locate us and knocking create where to find such
door holding horizon on all sides of us. Who knew the world meant, what the world in it
meant. You single point.


The common needle. .point hitches. .how to hold. .a seagoing

thimble. .the hook of water. .coiling the lead. .needle hitching the

slack worked eyelet. .seen on the selvage. .is to experience an event of

whiteness. .see blank notation at said margin. .and moor it there


Small envelopes he sends
brim over in me.
I am aware
these things he is wary of
bind in me.

Small envelopes he sends,
calling out from distant shore.
I leave my dress on the planks
of the floor.

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