these texts are an archive of my life in the San Francisco Bay Area from march 2007 - march 2015. it stands as a record of close to a decade of my life, charting the struggles i faced as an artist, daughter, and lover. messy and chaotic at times, eloquent and poetic at others, these texts are an index i am proud of. it was here in this electric box that i learned how to be honest about my experiences and the person i needed to become. it was here that i first learned the truism that words make the world and how to trust such a beautiful, rife, hard fact.

thank you for meeting me here in such tall grass.


my artist website is here.

Apr 19, 2010

i posted this poem last year for National Poetry Month and i don't care...

because it is RAD!




T: Karla Faye Tucker




Karla died a little death
each time her pickaxe fell.
All that coming made her deaf;
she'd killed & had her fill.

A Texas warden took her in
(the mug-shot turned out nice).
Karla Faye got born again
to give her life back twice.






-Jennifer Colin Scaife

2 comments:

Elisabeth said...

RAD poem Angela. If only I knew what RAD means, is it short for radical?

Sometimes even with English - across cultures - things get lost in translation.

angela simione said...

hahahahaha! you made me laugh out loud!

it is short for radical. 80s american slang. :)