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 Thursday, March 22, 2007 i found a room full of glass today. i read about the right to self termination and dignity. i am sneezy today. (oh please, please, don't let me be sneezy) i am thinking, of particular things. my hands, hold my head up, gently. it was a restful and, actually, a readful week. and everyone was so lovely and wonderful. on tuesday i ate with him, it was like eating during a slow fading sunset, but thinking that it was lovely, lovely and wonderful, and the loveliness will keep me from freezing at night. i think i might stay out of my room a little bit more, now that i have found my room full of glass. the city passes me, but i can't really hear it. in my room of glass, in the languages and literature building, there is a certain regality amidst the barbarism of the city. thursday is the day of glass, delicate breath, and children at prayer. posted by dawn # 10:50 AM Comments: 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] mother called, left a voicemail. the snow is clear... in summer, i will take a flight to beijing, by mys... new paltz, new york. meeting poet ken french and his partner is lovely.... the paradox of pain (from the book of 5am stories) i miss humidity, thunderstorms, perspiring and wea... bukit timah and bare naked ladies a general detachment, from love, from things. perh... if the influence of the sunlight [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

Thursday, March 22, 2007

i found a room full of glass today. i read about the right to self termination and dignity. i am sneezy today. (oh please, please, don't let me be sneezy) i am thinking, of particular things. my hands, hold my head up, gently. it was a restful and, actually, a readful week. and everyone was so lovely and wonderful. on tuesday i ate with him, it was like eating during a slow fading sunset, but thinking that it was lovely, lovely and wonderful, and the loveliness will keep me from freezing at night. i think i might stay out of my room a little bit more, now that i have found my room full of glass. the city passes me, but i can't really hear it. in my room of glass, in the languages and literature building, there is a certain regality amidst the barbarism of the city. thursday is the day of glass, delicate breath, and children at prayer.

posted by dawn # 10:50 AM

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