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
Friday, March 30, 2007
she tells me, he was heavy when he left . i can't reconcile memory with loss.
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[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]
today was a hot day. unusually hot. spring is here...
suddenly, she was excited, closed the book, with a...
i found a room full of glass today. i read about t...
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
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