Sussurus |
I want to fire off into an ancient canyondeep and unstirringonly to wait above the hollowed spaceand answer to the reportwith your name. your name, peeling like a fractured dollwaging war with the sil... Posted by Marie on Wed, 13 Jun 2007 12:14:00 PST |
the color of yellow |
My Junior High best friend had parents who, for reasons forgotten, went to a church in the next city over. One Sunday, dazed by Christ and his sacrifices, Heidi (said friend) and I mutinied and laid ... Posted by Marie on Fri, 25 May 2007 09:18:00 PST |
It Wakes the Soul from Sickly Slumber |
I'm hanging curtains on a Saturday in a sundress. White dress and red curtain. A lover's on my mind and succulent. For a second, probably because of my perch, I think of the termite nests stashed... Posted by Marie on Thu, 03 May 2007 11:28:00 PST |
Oh. Wayward. |
So many people are asleep in Manhattan. There are suspended patches of darkness, obviously unlit windows in the city. The still lit windows encourage me to notice the outlines of bricks and black sp... Posted by Marie on Mon, 09 Apr 2007 10:45:00 PST |
Tucson |
8 parts gin and 1 part tonic, katz at the pizza place, brian frain, granola, 4th, desert, david...always...david, sheila slayton, smokefree nooners, great weed, "it wasn't me," boys with nicknames, ma... Posted by Marie on Sun, 25 Mar 2007 01:55:00 PST |
Up...To Me |
The hostel was in the reflection of Montmarte on a street too small to allow the passage of a postal truck. From the grocer on the corner, we got a long baguette and spreadable cheese. On the other ... Posted by Marie on Sun, 11 Mar 2007 03:43:00 PST |
senseless lineage |
Marie is my grandmother's name. I borrowed it from her when I was born. Once, I was told it was a hard luck name, filled with tears. Perhaps the teller of this tale had read too much French history. ... Posted by Marie on Tue, 27 Feb 2007 12:33:00 PST |
over |
we can see the fire burning away on the coast. we can see it. but I'm watching it. it burns in a straight line, up from the rocks, lapping at the road. clearly defiant. the constant ocean breeze push... Posted by Marie on Tue, 09 Jan 2007 10:23:00 PST |
rush |
Outside the shackled WeHo windows, the shamless wind is parading. Earlier, a little rain made fresh the concrete and asphalt. In a scarf and vest, I felt nestled in.I was tucked in among my contempor... Posted by Marie on Fri, 05 Jan 2007 10:44:00 PST |
too weary (revised) |
My neighbor drinks vodka. The bad stuff. Gallon jugs. Plastic. Nameless poison.She hasn't brushed her hair all the way through since I moved here but advertizes her distrust of Christians.Halfway t... Posted by Marie on Sun, 24 Dec 2006 04:10:00 PST |