REVELATION

Posted on February 10, 2010 - Filed Under The Marina Experiment | Leave a Comment

Today I considered that maybe my relationship with my archive
is akin to my relationship with men.
I choose to be intimate with things that hurt me over and over.

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OBITUARY HAIKU

Posted on September 17, 2009 - Filed Under The Marina Experiment | Leave a Comment

he does not hear me
in my eyes he sees himself
I am traumatized

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OBITUARY HAIKU #2

Posted on September 17, 2009 - Filed Under The Marina Experiment | Leave a Comment

a kiss on the lips
I lock the door to my room
is he really dead?

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OBITUARY LIMERICK

Posted on June 15, 2009 - Filed Under The Marina Experiment | Leave a Comment

I once had a father named Abe
who treated me like a hot babe
he lecherously stared
while he photographed me bare
so my home felt like Abu Ghraib

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SAIL ON SAIL ON SAILOR

Posted on June 14, 2009 - Filed Under The Marina Experiment | Leave a Comment

I have made a piece of art out of child abuse.  Sorting and resorting and editing the facts that are the source of my fury and my grief. I imagined I was desensitized, but every time I go back, I find new shards.
I am not a victim or a survivor. I don’t identify with these [...]

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MY BRAIN IS A RIOT

Posted on June 13, 2009 - Filed Under The Marina Experiment | Leave a Comment

I strain to get to a word. It is imprisoned by my skull no window through my eyes.
My mother had collapsed onto her bad hip and her hand was firmly clutching nothing. A gang of teenagers had broken into the house and raped her while she was holding a dollar bill and then the fireplace [...]

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SEEKING ASYLUM

Posted on June 12, 2009 - Filed Under The Marina Experiment | Leave a Comment

I don’t know what that’s like.
to feel safe.
to be embraced with no genital intentions
just to feel cared for
to feel safe.
I don’t know what that’s like.

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CHRISTMAS MEMORIES

Posted on June 11, 2009 - Filed Under The Marina Experiment | 3 Comments

I remember asking for a doll named Tiny Tiny Tears. I liked her because she cried “real tears,” the ad said. Santa told me that if I was very very good, and obeyed my father and my mother, I would get Tiny Tiny Tears next week. I never got Tiny Tiny Tears.

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