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 Saturday, May 26, 2007 reminder from rich Either you will go through this door or you will not go through. If you go through there is always the risk of reminding your name. [...] The door itself makes no promises. It is only a door. Selected poems, "Prospective Immigrants Please Note", Rich. posted by dawn # 11:01 PM 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] this has been one of the happiest weeks of my life... When Tracy cut my hair, she would stand very strai... i would look at all of you The adventures of Julie and a bright blue button SQ21 someone is playing a jazz trumpet in the quadrangl... michael corleoni and king edward (the prelude to t... when one has lived alone for a long time, the quie... little earthquakes The Wish [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

Saturday, May 26, 2007

reminder from rich

Either you will
go through this door
or you will not go through.

If you go through
there is always the risk
of reminding your name.

[...]

The door itself
makes no promises.
It is only a door.

Selected poems, "Prospective Immigrants Please Note", Rich.

posted by dawn # 11:01 PM

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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] this has been one of the happiest weeks of my life...
When Tracy cut my hair, she would stand very strai...
i would look at all of you
The adventures of Julie and a bright blue button
SQ21
someone is playing a jazz trumpet in the quadrangl...
michael corleoni and king edward (the prelude to t...
when one has lived alone for a long time, the quie...
little earthquakes
The Wish

[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