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, March 21, 2008 horseshoe crabs i am trying to get used to my new skin. in my new skin, i'm not sad or scared, i haven't fought, i haven't been upset, i haven't been moved, i swear more, cook less, i think simply, in words like "gorgeous," "very cool," "messed up," i have, simply put, forgotten. suddenly home is truly faraway, and i am suddenly strange to myself. yesterday i went to the liquor store to buy a jacob's creek, the shop cheered and congratulated me. i have a new pair of thighs, which don't seem like mine yet, and threaten to walk out on me. they're impatient with me, they want to run. keep quiet, i say, i don't want to go to the gym, i only want to run outdoors. i get impatient and bored these days, impatient for the weather to become warm. my body is rebellious though, it doesn't care that gymming is boring, it doesn't care that the weather is crazy. i'm angry today because the weather is glorious, sun and clear sky, but it is freezing. it smells like pine, he said. really, i can't smell a thing, i said. that's crazy, he said back. i had a handwritten letter in the mailbox, and a white candle sealed inside it, overnight mail. it was all rambly with horrible handwriting, it looked like burnt bush. difficult to explain the shock of seeing handwriting. it's like seeing another person's pubic hair for the first time. i saw five deer at my doorstep last night, one gazed at me, petrified. bambi? i called. it was a deer surprise party, he suggested. maybe it'll be good to be closer to home, closer to upstate, maybe. i make plans. one of them includes learning to cook burmese food from the father with the machete. another is waiting till the tide dips in the morning in brooklyn to pick horseshoe crabs like stars. posted by dawn # 1:50 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] spring equinox jerk tired spring and summer green dragon day lovely arcana imperii traveling memories beautiful sunset [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, March 21, 2008

horseshoe crabs

i am trying to get used to my new skin. in my new skin, i'm not sad or scared, i haven't fought, i haven't been upset, i haven't been moved, i swear more, cook less, i think simply, in words like "gorgeous," "very cool," "messed up," i have, simply put, forgotten. suddenly home is truly faraway, and i am suddenly strange to myself. yesterday i went to the liquor store to buy a jacob's creek, the shop cheered and congratulated me. i have a new pair of thighs, which don't seem like mine yet, and threaten to walk out on me. they're impatient with me, they want to run. keep quiet, i say, i don't want to go to the gym, i only want to run outdoors. i get impatient and bored these days, impatient for the weather to become warm. my body is rebellious though, it doesn't care that gymming is boring, it doesn't care that the weather is crazy. i'm angry today because the weather is glorious, sun and clear sky, but it is freezing. it smells like pine, he said. really, i can't smell a thing, i said. that's crazy, he said back. i had a handwritten letter in the mailbox, and a white candle sealed inside it, overnight mail. it was all rambly with horrible handwriting, it looked like burnt bush. difficult to explain the shock of seeing handwriting. it's like seeing another person's pubic hair for the first time. i saw five deer at my doorstep last night, one gazed at me, petrified. bambi? i called. it was a deer surprise party, he suggested. maybe it'll be good to be closer to home, closer to upstate, maybe. i make plans. one of them includes learning to cook burmese food from the father with the machete. another is waiting till the tide dips in the morning in brooklyn to pick horseshoe crabs like stars.

posted by dawn # 1:50 PM

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