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

Wednesday, April 09, 2008
mothers and brothers
virginia is 46, she is one of the grad students i have renaissance english class with. she has two daughters. we have a strange relationship, a little awkward, because i'm the age of her daughter, but sitting next to her in class and sharing my book with her when she forgets to bring her texts, or borrowing books from her. walking out of class: dawn, are you biking home? me: yes, virginia, i am. virginia: in the dark? me: yes. virginia: oh what would your mother say if she knew you were riding home in the dark? me: my mother doesn't know. brian, another grad student chips in, yeah she got bitten by a horse, you know? virginia: this is why i can't send my kids to college. me: brian, stop telling everyone about my exploits. suddenly everyone else (it's not a big class, just 5 of us) starts asking me about my horsebite. john: i used to work on a horse farm, we'd kill any of the horses the moment they bit anyone. oh god, this is horrible, i say, it's like adopting a whole lot of mothers and brothers. you better give us your medical records, brian says, we might also need to sign parental consent forms. i laugh, say goodbye.

the upshot of it is i am going to a doctor and getting a rabies shot tomorrow.

--

i went to the lake tonight. it was my first time running in the dark. you don't know how it feels like, the mist rising to your face. the moon was so close i swear i could have touched it. i didn't dare go further, afraid of animals. i am also afraid of horses now. i didn't say much else, but i did say one thing in class today, "forgiveness, is the closure of the language system; but prospero's reaching out to an unnamed audience, to ask for forgiveness is the re-opening and the rupturing of that system." brad replied, "yes, but that is also the end of his magic." "yes," i said, "that's true, very true."

--

at the end of the magic, i am neither lonely, nor happy, nor regretful, nor wistful, simply indifferent. if i were in love, i wouldn't have run to the lake in the dark, that is simply not what someone in love does. i decided to turn down tara's offer in the end, i don't want to stay in a flat in spanish harlem filled with lesbian musician-type columbia grad students, with a curtain partitioning us. if i lived like that i would be at leon's all the time. i want a place where i can dissolve into the city soundlessly.

[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] clearing up
horses
very interesting
pneumonia
summer ambitions
this is messed up - happy april's fools:)
gold
how to sleep
missing me
geryon

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