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, April 19, 2008
growth dividends
i typed out my ic number for the growth dividend website to collect my $250 that the wonderful government has given me. i felt really weird--i haven't typed out my ic number in 4 months, but it came back to me like the rush of water that tugs at your body when hits the water after months of not swimming, the same rush of water that compels your limbs to move, and in that second your body has forgotten that it forget how to swim, and you are swimming like a fish. first time receiving hand-outs from the government. i got nauseated by myself, i got nauseated with the government--why not use the money to open a singapore publishing house? on impulse, donated everything to the arts (my mother would kill me if she found out what i did with the money so my mother is not going to know.)

i ran today, through the route jm brought me on, it was twilight. twilight through the forest on your own, running up the hill strewn with leaves towards the top of the hill, where a big plain lies, open field that stretches out and, in the center of it, a single tree and a swing.

i also went to say hey to sarah today. somehow it was really important to me i saw sarah as just sarah, lovely sarah, sarah who stresses, sarah with eyeliner, sarah and chocolate, just sarah.

he mowed the lawn today "mouth tastes like grass, dirt and gas." someone is baking gingerbread men in the kitchen. passover is a fridge full of challa loaves and baklava. in the kitchen, i break bread on my own. passover is a time to be joyful and grateful, a time to be asked to be forgiven.

Comments:
you could have donated it to me, lord knows how badly i needed 2 pairs of basketball shoes.

pak
i know. i don't know if i did the right time. sometimes i get so idealistic and naive you know. i could have done with two pairs of shoes too. dawn


[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] at least a little bit
a big room
when the thunder called
relieved
mothers and brothers
clearing up
horses
very interesting
pneumonia
summer ambitions

[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

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