HOLD ON TIGHT

HE SAID, MARIE, MARIE, HOLD ON TIGHT And when we were children, staying at the archduke's, My cousin's, he took me out on a sled, And I was frightened. He said, Marie, Marie, hold on tight. And down we went. In the mountains, there you feel free. I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter. ~ The Waste Land, "The Burial of The Dead", Eliot Sunday, February 11, 2007 flowers, and etc to escape the cold, he flew in. we brushed the snow and dust from his shoulders. we learn to breathe in spite of winter and ourselves. he left. i cooked black bean tofu and rice, cleaned my table, and did my laundry. now my room has the faint smell of detergent, flowers incongruous and laughing in winter, other residues of him. posted by dawn # 5:04 PM Comments: heyu, happy valents!, eh, r u feeling good/okay? :) # posted by ericlow : 10:43 PM i'm ok eric:) happy cny! eh. i went for a galway kinnell 80th bday reading. and i detest valents. :) # posted by Anonymous : 1:39 PM haha. i read his recent offering in poetry journal, not impressed. ow, u hallmark cynic, enduring valents is good training. # posted by ericlow : 2:49 AM Post a Comment << Home		[publishing] Publishers Weekly . Dystel & Goderich . New York Center for Independent Publishing . Association of American University Presses . Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators [people] clarisse . nurul . aunty zarina (ummi's bakery) . jeremy . pak . cyril . softblow . karen & kenny (booksactually) . eric . joel . [other loves] digitaljournalist . ballet dictionary . poetshouse . urbanwordnyc [me] dawn, singapore, new york city, ithaca. [yesterday] and the same black line that was drawn on you, was... a roomful of white gratefulness. Excuse me but can I be you for a whileMy dog won't... i carry myself in myself splitpapayas.com 当年 trainstop (not sure if i got the translation right) the wages of dying is love MMMMMMM [archives] January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009

HE SAID, MARIE, MARIE, HOLD ON TIGHT

And when we were children, staying at the archduke's,
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

~ The Waste Land, "The Burial of The Dead", Eliot

Sunday, February 11, 2007

flowers, and etc

to escape the cold, he flew in. we brushed the snow and dust from his shoulders. we learn to breathe in spite of winter and ourselves.

he left. i cooked

black bean tofu and rice, cleaned my table, and did my laundry.

now my room has the faint smell of detergent, flowers incongruous and laughing in winter, other residues of him.

posted by dawn # 5:04 PM

Comments:

heyu, happy valents!, eh, r u feeling good/okay? :)

# posted by

ericlow : 10:43 PM

i'm ok eric:) happy cny! eh. i went for a galway kinnell 80th bday reading. and i detest valents. :)

# posted by

Anonymous : 1:39 PM

haha. i read his recent offering in poetry journal, not impressed.

ow, u hallmark cynic, enduring valents is good training.

# posted by

ericlow : 2:49 AM