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 Friday, November 30, 2007 snow under streetlight the snow is falling under the streetlamp tonight. yesterday, one of the english professors said to me, while working over a document "love and loss in shakespeare," "i necessarily empty my head of all these meetings and faces, if not i would be incapable of thinking." yesterday was also poetry, i explained to small group what was waterwords. "you could write a whole book of poetry about waterwords," said alesia. tonight is work. "i am not calling tonight because tonight is work," i texted home. posted by dawn # 5:41 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] trauma and the heart breathe pretty the memory of a goldfish letter to yantai all of a sudden happiness differences Ultrasound in my own time [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

Friday, November 30, 2007

snow under streetlight

the snow is falling under the streetlamp tonight.
yesterday, one of the english professors said to me, while working over a document "love and loss in shakespeare," "i necessarily empty my head of all these meetings and faces, if not i would be incapable of thinking."
yesterday was also poetry, i explained to small group what was waterwords.
"you could write a whole book of poetry about waterwords," said alesia.
tonight is work. "i am not calling tonight because tonight is work," i texted home.

posted by dawn # 5:41 PM

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