mannequingirl's profile

For sale: writer's life; needs work.

It is now August The long evening of summer I am still inside.

I have two sons, but I can’t remember their names. There’s lots of things I can’t remember anymore, like who I am, and who I used to be, and where my arms and hands and fingers are. That’s one of the reasons I’m here at Seabury. It’s not a bad place, as far as hospitals go. I know I used to live with my sons in a big house Somewhere in America. And I know I was with them, that I was their Mother, for a very long time. I remember their births and I remember teaching them the alphabet and how ...

“VISTA” Having arrived at the edge of this precipice I can begin to see that the road Would have ended here however I came But I would have chosen This particular emptiness By an altogether different path Assuming, of course, That it would have been better To arrive here like the others Carried along by wind or river In the snow that falls from mountain tops Or the rain that, having fallen Rises up again From dew on fields of morning grass In the mist that floats like chimney smoke Above the ...

“DELAYED SORROW” Beneath the broken mirror of the sea Blue waves crash against the shores Tilting sunken ships Opening their doors For the woman in white Who rises from the water Searching for her daughter Every morning you can see her Combing the sea with impotent bones Rheumatoid and arthritic Unbounded by skin She’s just a skeleton And so very thin That she cannot remember Where her daughter has been Her skull rolls along the sand Searching for its teeth Or bobbles on the water’s edge A ch...