Mandy Brown, originally from Texas, is an actress and filmmaker residing in

Los Angeles.  She also is the creator/artist of Naiad Jewelry.  She has

degrees in Theatre Arts and Film/Video from Penn State, and her thesis film,

The Room, debuted at Sedona International Film Festival.












she would not swim

in her swimming pool

afraid other people might see her,

she said.

see her varicose veins and fat deposits…

even in spite of the 6 foot high fence

encircling it.

I told her it was silly to care about things like that,

that she lived in the country, that she was 62

and she should Seize the Day!



we both knew

she would never

seize the day.



since my dad died,

she sat alone most days

in the glow of the TV.

she’d call me across the country, crying,

but there was nothing I could do.

it made me mad

because she wouldn’t let me pretend

that nothing had changed.



when I visited her in the summer,

the pool was dark and green.

I stood staring at it

as she mumbled something about getting it

paved over.



in the bottom were black leaves, and algae,

dead bugs and dark mysteries,

and dreams like copper pennies

that we would never again dive for.







We sat on the couch

silent

as I stared at the Christmas tree.



Christmas was over

and the lights weren’t turned on.



“I guess we should make a decision soon,”

you said.

I nodded

and began to weep.



I buried my face in your stomach

and you held me

as if we weren’t actually going to destroy one another



Soon it would be time

to take down the tree







I want to keep Chub Chub

I want to bring him home

to a house I would share with you.

We’d look outdoors and see all Arizona

embracing us in its freedom.



But you are not free.

No.

You belong to her

And though I can read things in the way you touch me

I can’t change that.



you come over here and we work on the film

skin so close

as we take turns looking through the eyepiece

skin so close

as you fall asleep next to me

on accident, I guess



And when you picked up the little gray kitten

and said you’d call it Chub Chub

I suddenly wanted to pretend

that we were in a different place in a different time

under different circumstances

I wanted to forget Lisa

and forget

that the kitten had already been named Abner by someone else



and just for a second,

I believed I could







It is May 2002.  I am once again sitting in a diner with Deb.

In a month she gets married and I finally skip town

and these lives that we’ve lived here will end.

But as we sit here in the sunshine, who cares?

We have pizza and Dr. Pepper and two journals between us

Pages waving hello across the table, screaming greetings in the form of

poems.



It’s been a long time.

Deb looks the same, a little older maybe, a little calmer

Time, circumstance, are funny things.



There was a thing called college

and a thing called making movies

and a thing so intrinsically tied up in these

I can’t define it



But Deb and I had been smack in the middle of it

and in love with it



we ran around like little elves

with our journals and screenplays and super sparkly eye shadow  we were

unstoppable.



Her handwriting still looks so familiar

and even though her eyes are focused elsewhere

her smile is still the same.



I look out the window

and suddenly feel so much love

for all these people floating by on this sunny afternoon



– everything is going to be okay –  nothing is lost –



the world is smaller than I thought







TO MYSELF AS AN OLD WOMAN



what happened to you, Mandy Brown?

are you sitting in the kitchen with someone you love,

or did you grow old alone?

did you ever travel to the Aegean Sea

and do you remember the poems you loved

when you were young?

did you ever make another movie

did you ever stand up and say,

enough of this not-knowing shit; I’m going

to make things happen.

or did the world continue to elude you,

as it eludes me,

and all your dreams so beautiful

remain unrealized







I opened the car door,

sat down,

put the key in the ignition

and turned it.

You kissed me one last time

and somehow you closed the door

and somehow I pulled away



I watched you slip past the window

you looked at me for a moment,

then shifted your eyes down in resignation



Corey snapped my photo as the car rolled past

I slowed and smiled to let

the silver nitrate trace my curves,

to hold me indefinitely –

forever in that one moment –



I will hold you the same way







LOVE IN THE USA



It’s all lies and heartbreak.

Iced mocha in hand and reggae music overhead,

I peer at the NY Times Headlines.



“Bush knew.”



You will deny this when I tell you

You will defend him, your earnest Christian president

(Who will not kill babies, but many Iraqis)

and I will be at a loss for words.

My eyes will once again

drift out the car window

and fix there.



Sometimes I feel like I’m floating

like all those over New Orleans

on the night Bush did nothing to help them.

“Surely this can’t be happening to us,” they thought.

“This is America!  It’s only other people we don’t give a shit about –

Rwanda, the Sudan, the Iraqis – Oh wait we do care about them; they have

oil.”



We were talking today

about the end of the world.



If I flee to Canada,

you won’t come.

This your beloved country.



Maybe I’m just a coward, maybe I don’t

deserve to live in this home of the free

land of the brave.



But my loyalty is faltering, my views are all skewed

All I know is I love you

and a continental divide is growing between us.

Mandy Brown