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by C. E. Laine
defining memory
Some memories
are the sticky, wet
red of cancer, swelling
to suffocate everything
else;
couched in words that matter,
tweaked into a "poem"
that
slides into fits of discontented,
blue, moody eloquence.
Other memories
are brightly colored nylon,
filled with helium, rising
high and out of reach.
Or spread eagle, freefall
dives
into ethereal patches of
mist,
pinched into inadequate
words;
enslaved by the comma
and the semi-colon.
First
appeared in The 2River View,
5.2 (Winter 2000)
C.
E. Laine's work has appeared
in many publications, including
Poems Niederngasse, New
World Poetry, Free Zone
Quarterly, Poetry Super
Highway, Countless Horizons,
The White Shoe Irregular,
Bay Review Liberal Arts
Journal, Friction Magazine,
2River View, Kota Press,
Absinthe, Stirring (writing
as Kit Sullivan), The White
Shoe Irregular, Clean Sheets,
Erosha, Beauty for Ashes,
Ludlow Press, Melic Review,
The Adirondack Review and
Pierian Springs. She has
written two books of poetry:
"allegory" (ISBN:
0-595-22462-8) and "The
Weight of Dust" (ISBN:
0-595-26943-5). They are
available at celaine.com
. She is a writer and a
student pilot. She divides
her time between writing
and flying old airplanes.
She avoids the mundane whenever
possible, with the exception
of making lists. She is
a student pilot, a realtor,
and a web designer when
she isn't writing. In the
past, she's been magician's
assistant, a baker, an extra
in a few movies, a licensed
artist in New Orleans' French
Quarter, and a soldier in
this girl's U. S. Army.
She lives in a creaking
old Virginia home, conveniently
ruled by seven cats. She
enjoys making lists on sticky
notes when she isn't writing
poems.
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