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  • Ontario Creates
  • Ontario Arts Council
  • Canada Council for the Arts

Cliff Notes

From Brick 116

My comforts drop and melt away like snow

I said but there was no one there, no there

to speak of just an ear receiving

and receiving certain measures from

measures from afar, dah-dit, the tempo

arranged to send out syllables repeating

a pattern, fallen sticks, one still walking

it back waving it off, joking, ceding

ground to calm her, trying to, the major

concession under the minor being

that there’s a place for fire in this house

or you might say this house is a place

for fire, or you might say that fire

is the place that bodies each relation

in this house, and only later, other

rooms you early one morning window dim

not moving but growing knowing hear

the voices darkly from those years ago

of what it was, another story

consuming them as each one played their part

befalls of families good deal, to read

the days and days without generic hints

impossible, you cannot not interpret

table settings mom dad sister brother

the stuff of drama heaps a substance, bone

for fracture of genre, each element

behaving differently at once, of course

many go on vacuuming the floors

for years and that may be what years are for

but one of the sequels that got to me

was distance at an early age, the kindest

device he gave, I should have taken more

fathers often make a pact with doorways

mine from every embassy, procession

signals exit, as any man who tries

can see how small, how few the scenes contain

my friend the Fool is welcome to it all

the best I saw interpreted by one

one Michael Bryant near the end of time

and acting jobs, his voice a boot on gravel

oddly jocund, a sign the fellow’s free

already of hope, on equal terms

I stream the movie over and over

to see the coxcomb fluttering to Kent

the rest on VHS, the tatters of

his work in libraries, it’s up in smoke

because he never rose to be a star

I stream, redecorating the chateau

France is having the walls and drapes redone

I choose the patterns, all new patterns

what, I don’t deserve a tiny piece of

nothing much? that stars blink out is known before

but smell no fault in this duality,

our traded lines, our skill, the burning pushed

below thereby do I condone the whole

or why he could eviscerate the king

with something of my energy, who sees

her parent all the way around

truth’s a dog must to kennel, whip held up

the long hand on the clock at home, or short

or mismatched cutlery, no love without

the quiet tick, explosion in the wings

sweeping up again the implications

it takes a lot of practice, rehearsals

as if the name of discipline could make

it make a home, perfecting there my own

accommodations, not a word to France

the nights without a word then wake to ask

permission to be daughter, deference

a code, fort-da, forgive me this my virtue

her lines a poor man’s prayer and chiefly the

asides, soliloquy where scarce a bush

for miles, the pace he rides it sarcasm

expresses and extinguishes at once

too much to do and I do all the work

unheard of hope, it’s only true as if

I were cliff ’s notebook, mine the steepest part

the lines so true I keep them to myself

when out they go they’re instantly untrue

they’re unrelated, sort of like the years

play dumb in me, embarrassing to love

and be silent, he never was afraid

to lift a cabochon of feeling by

his fingertips to magic him our own

shadow of a piece of smoke won’t hold

as flames twitch faster than the eye can seize

like film or thought and when the story turns

you watch the king as I do, can’t believe

my dad laughs as if insults nourished him

there is no slander in an allowed fool

though he do nothing but rail but it’s the lack

of false remark ignites our interview

I’m sorry to say it, and is that true

how rude to slay by proxy, can’t you

be bothered to visit, do not I merit

like 36 hours in Picardie,

backstage I’m scribbling lyric poems

to prove there is a place where I can be


JANA PRIKRYL’s fourth book of poems, The Channel, will be published in 2026. Born in the Czech Republic and raised in Canada, she is the executive editor at The New York Review of Books.

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