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Carmen Martines

my blog
Habit  
Posted 3/6/13

***First Chapter of my memoir, Baby Girl*** Posted here for review for the artist residency application for July-August 2013 in Paris Habit   “Tell me what is was like,” Dawn leaned into me eagerly, the long ash of her cigarette nearly falling into my lap, her straw colored hair shielding her face, but not the sharp gleam in her pale blue eyes.               “Take a hit and pass the can, but don’t exhale,” said Billy.             I placed the hot aluminum can to my mouth and took the largest possible p... [more]

The Blaspheme of Romance  
Posted 3/6/13

***Previously written November 2012, submitted for review for the July-August Paris Residency Award*** The Blaspheme of Romance I was watching the newest Spider Man movie and the kiss between the protagonist, Peter Parker, and the girl struck me, that pause, that sweet pause wherein two mouths collide and there, the kiss. How is it that I am leaving on a jet plane, literally, I am writing this at 31,900 feet, give or take a few, headed to that city all consumed with the notions of romance, a... [more]

While You Were Sleeping  
Posted 3/6/13

***Poem submitted for Application and Review July-August 2013 Paris Residency Georgia Fee Award*** While You Were Sleeping Love came and went, dancing through rooms swirled with snow. Her name was Mathilde and she waltzed. Mathilda and her girls twirled past your sleeping form, Chuckling hot chocolate fogged breaths at your snuffling snores. They pirouetted on ice skates of elk horn and mouse hair, hands Stuffed in rabbit fur muffs.  They remember the dreams poets Forget, drunk on Fernet, sick... [more]

Cry Baby  
Posted 3/6/13

***Poem submitted for review for the application for Residency Georgia Fee Award July-August 2013 Paris*** Cry Baby She's a love junkie, whimpering after his cheekbones. Craving sugar spun sonnets and nonce quatrains, Stockpiling sestinas and internal rhyme schemes. She falls on the floor, nodded out little hypoglycemic. She's a love junkie, wallowing in canker sore bliss, Poking her tongue in and out the pitted mouth of desire. Needling along, chain smoking a noodling song, she hovers, Above her spra... [more]


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