Thursday, September 29, 2011

from by Sara Bouchard



Her walk seems not a succession of steps.
It’s good to watch with an odd distance.
She claims all attention, it’s all very distracting.
Face as smooth as unbroken glass.

Delightful to watch from my deathbed,
Stiff and static in my thorny box.
A circular pool of light on her, dressed in black,
Casting a single shadow sideways.

I had my work cut out for me:
Greed and ambition and jealousy.
Grand and ridiculous plans that upset the peace,
But I offer no apologies.

Gods and mortals cavorting as pirates;
Imagining myself a Jesse James,
I took the ransom and the long road back
To the arms of my drop-dead beauty.

Faded from the front page news,
My crimes were overshadowed by the storms.
What have we done to nature that could have increased her fury?
No one should ever live like this.

Perhaps this is the future after all.


from The News: Monday​-​Friday, released March 2, 2012



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Sara Bouchard Brooklyn, New York

I am a multi-disciplinary artist and songwriter with a strong foothold in American roots. My work explores the intersection between sound, story and environment. I perform solo and with my band Salt Parade.

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