songanddancegirl

"It's about words, and words are all I have…"

DOG

THE MORE I SEE OF SOME PEOPLE

THE BETTER I LIKE MY DOG  HE SAID

First 6 months of grey mornings   coming slowly

to consciousness   Merciless   Remembering around

the edges   He’s dead   Gutted  pulled back into the

gaping hole   More vast than the one they put him in

With antechambers  tunnels to arteries  clogged with

freshgrief

 

Then on a full moon night  February 1990  the 6 month nadir

After which  you rise up from the bed  bloody+splayed  like

the sacrificial lamb   Griefempty+skinned    Shot back into life

Perma-soulhole    You slide through decades  learning the

secret meaning of:  immortality

 

It is: your father’s voice   His laugh   His phraseology:  Don’t

argue with a fool   If you have one true friend in a lifetime

you’re lucky   Don’t spend other people’s money   He’s full

of shit    All of it  alive +well  in the deepest caves of memory

Unaccessible to the ravages of aging   Growing deeper +more

resonant with time  (your 93 yr. old mother  hears her mother’s

voice almost nightly)   

 

Until one day  almost 30 yrs. since the grave was fresh   There is

a transmutation of: your father + a bird    It screeches loudly at

the cemetery  as you + a brother  re-visit line and verse  old sorrows

The family curse   This father/bird will have none of it   He bomb dives

your head  with beating wings +a rush of air   +the ever so faintest

scent of  Aqua Velva

__

 

 

Spring  2017   for Daddybird   aka Harry Lee Atkins  1921-1989

 

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