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Destroying Sweaters: One Song at a Time

And the Prophet Declared, "We're Screwed"

Child in Red
Ranier Marie Rilke

Sometimes she walks through the village in her
little red dress
all absorbed in restraining herself,
and yet, despite herself, she seems to move
according to the rhythm of her life to come.

She runs a bit, hesitates, stops,
half-turns around...
and, all while dreaming, shakes her head
for or against.

Then she dances a few steps
that she invents and forgets,
no doubt finding out that life
moves on too fast.

It's not so much that she steps out
of the small body enclosing her,
but that all she carries in herself
frolics and ferments.

It's this dress that she'll remember
later in a sweet surrender;
when her whole life is full of risks,
the little red dress will always seem right.

Translated by A. Poulin

Available at http://community.livejournal.com/thefulcrum
Made by Liz a.k.a. grrliz.livejournal.com

“I don’t know what it is about fuckin’ rock stars dying that always kills me. It’s like, I know they’re not immortal or any of that cliché bull shit…but still. I hitchhiked all the way to the Seattle Center the night Kurt shot himself. And my sister and I drove to Strawberry Fields when George died. Hell I even left flowers outside CBGB’s when Joey Ramone passed… and I never even liked the Ramones that much.” Y: The Last Man- Unmanned Brain K. Vaughan