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 Monday, May 26, 2008 beautiful i am back in nyc. this moving around is crazy. i am leaving the lower east side and moving into my permanent home in harlem this week. i drive around jersey in his car in search of the best soondoobu and inoki mushrooms. we read and fall asleep on the grass, davis johnson park, tenafly, beautiful day. he drove me home tonight, and we passed the george washington bridge into a road over the harlem river, never saw new york city so beautiful. for no reason, i tell him, remember tonight. after work tomorrow, i want to find a chapel where i can pray for my grandfather. posted by dawn # 9:47 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] justin running with donald tired feeling whimsical love and desire gum and media guns and boys making magic i don't mean to be bimbotic or anything, but sabri... that funny old hurt [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

Monday, May 26, 2008

beautiful

i am back in nyc. this moving around is crazy. i am leaving the lower east side and moving into my permanent home in harlem this week. i drive around jersey in his car in search of the best soondoobu and inoki mushrooms. we read and fall asleep on the grass, davis johnson park, tenafly, beautiful day. he drove me home tonight, and we passed the george washington bridge into a road over the harlem river, never saw new york city so beautiful. for no reason, i tell him, remember tonight. after work tomorrow, i want to find a chapel where i can pray for my grandfather.

posted by dawn # 9:47 PM

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