first end day as 38, a dollar short and a day late,got a dog and it looks great. ach, nonsense.
but yes, turning a corner, and finding something. a lab/terrier mix, three and half month old. from north shore animal league in and out in less than 2 hours.
have we become one of those type of people? friend says, “dogs are animals that are filthy and untrustworthy and can at a moment’s notice revert to instinct and rip your face off.”
oh my.
but something about the dog, already the dynamic. in me, in ioanna, in mikey, even mari.
perhaps we needed this.
turned 38, just like that.
All posts by manny@savo.us
father’s day 2010
after all these years and having become a father myself, you’d think it would get easier: that all i have to say to you would come out naturally and effortlessly. but it doesn’t, it gets choked up. how can i tell you, i mean really tell you, what you’ve meant and mean to me? how can i ever tell you about the things i hope you and i will do together in the future as father and son? how can i explain to you in details the things i imagine you’ll teach your grand children. these are all very difficult things to say, to write because there are never the right words to say everything that i really want to say. but i want to say this, at the very least: you’re my father and i am very proud of you. i am very lucky to have what i have in front of me, but i am extraordinarily fortunate to have you beside me.
after glow
lovely, this lovely, this lovely thigh against my own in the night. spent, passion spent, wet and weary. in a good way, like after a rigorous swim. like coming out into the light, coming home from the beach. yes, like that, you under my skin, in my breath, beside me, in the after glow. how wonderful.
shipmast
the spectacle of tentacles and heartbreak and loosened teeth. i saw this. i saw this upon the hull and wept. barnacles and mermaids and sirens and bloated dead men gouged eyes strewn across the reef. did you forget me? did you finally forget? or has the wound scabbed over into the semblance of something whole and sturdy and alive. the living, ah that’s always the rub isn’t it? between the storms and longing and flogging and the walls of the brig: the choice between living and weeping, carrying on and throwing up, swimming out into the sea or drowning to the shore.
mother’s day, always
my love, my love, my love
what have you given me, what is this life, these swirls, this joy, these children
who scamper about, drive me crazy, drive my heart
what is this life, this peace, this beauty
this tenderness i see when you hold them, scold them, kiss them
you brought these children into this world
you’ve brought this immeasurable light into our lives,
into my life, into the dark sorrow of my heart
where do you find all the love that you give?
elegant universe
“If you wish
to make an apple pie
from scratch, you must first
invent the universe.”
– Carl Sagan.
from scratch, scratching, here his little scar and the constellations above.
the softness of her kiss and the volcanoes on Jupiter.
the tenor of my daughter’s laughter and the principle of gravity.
here and above, below and some-when-else.
an elegance that shatters me, brings me to tears.
twisty fate
to go on. into some vast darkness, vast obliteration. have you been obliterated? nonsense. post traumatic babble. no war time. only peace time. down time. dead time. long dead, you died a long time ago. was it in the hospital with the sweat of his brow or when you betrayed them all? when you walked away from the boy’s death or when you allowed hers?
or when you stopped dreaming? or when they laughed at you and your clothes? when she told you you smelled like a pool or when chose to no longer speak to you? how did it all happen? the wonderment. you, astonished that you are not alone. without punishment. without grief. without respite. to combat the vastness of it, the sense of hopelessness and judgment. to be cast out when so clearly in the bosom of all that loves you.
jack of all trades
the fucking luck of it. run out. sparse and empty. you’ve ruined it. nothing else but this. no grandeur for you, no promise of more for them. wretched as you are. piecemeal. all that you are, just barely enough for them to survive on.
but long lost
you remember this. or is it you remember this, or something, or that and the other and the something else that had forgotten you before you could. or the running, the pawing, the scratching of some memory dear and vital and true but long lost.
baby boy, i have much to learn from you
recently he fell and smashed his teeth and his mouth was bloody and i was horrified and felt nothing and thought to myself they’re only baby teeth they’re only baby teeth and afterwards when the dentist finally saw him and told me he would need his front teeth removed and walked out of the examination room to find an oral surgeon that could take a two year old i held him closely and wept i could not hold it anymore i could not hold him any tighter but i did in the end just before the surgeon needled his gums and the nurses tried to tell him it was going to be ok i had my legs wrapped around his and my arm gripped his little hands and he screamed while i pulled his head tight against my chest my darling boy my darling boy they ripped your teeth out because we had to and later much later weeks later i whispered to him while giving him his vitamin i am sorry my son i didnt save you it was my fault i couldnt save your teeth and he had his arms wrapped around my neck and fingers tucked in my hair and he replied no daddy no it was my fault i broke my teeth it was my fault and i write this now the day after and i weep all over again