about his portrait: hairline,
eyes, the glasses, nose?
Maybe it's the ears.
He will turn 35, four
months before I do,
less one day, but
who is counting?
His story with the boy
lost in the airport is being
read right now by hundreds
(is that too few?). My story
about the lost girl never went
very far, though I did finish it.
I have not read his novel
about the Italian immigrants
of Elephant Park, Ohio,
which I think is a made place,
but my maternal grandfather
was Angelo, born in a mining
village in Crawford County,
Kansas in 1911. There is a story
that is his life. I will not write it.
I would not hurt my mother.
The novel will begin with my
grandmother milking a cow.
My grandfather was a track
star, deathly afraid of submarines.
This saved him from WWII.
These things deserve to be told.
His novel has been translated into
French, German, and Italian. No one
wanted my translations of Reverdy.
He is a Guggenheim Fellow.
I have several close friends.
I think it must be the ears;
I would never comb my hair
that way.
I might have been
a concert pianist, had I been
born somewhere else, and
with someone else's name.
[In case you want to know.]
I have seen those articles tweeted several times (I follow the New Yorker), and I have absolutely, positively refused to read them...until you forced me to. *heavy sigh*
ReplyDeleteThis is a really good poem. It made me smile. It sounds familiar. It made my heart hurt.
I can feel the sense of 'what if...and also 'why not?' I almost texted you last week...I was driving through town, and I felt...poised on the verge of *something* important, some understanding, some new way of seeing that will forever transform my writing, make me a real writer, give me something worthwhile to write about. But, then it was gone. Besides, it was too long to text.
What can we do? What we do, I guess. I don't know if that's enough...if it's worth the aggravation. :)
I really like the details here (made place and the fifth stanza esp.)
ReplyDeleteThe whole poem is in these lines:
I might have been
a concert pianist, had I been
born somewhere else, and
with someone else's name.
There's a distinct 'what if' through line in your recent posts. I'm liking the reflection, the wonder, but am curious what's inspiring it. Maybe too personal a question.
As for what is similar between you and Mr. S: it's the mouth. You both look poised to speak, but thinking better of it.
Thanks for the comments.
ReplyDeleteMelissa: For me, although the delusions of grandeur are mostly dead, the need to say something is not.
717: I've always been keenly interested in the idea that the life we live is only one of the possibilities that might have been...so, I like the idea of using that as a point of reflection for writing. I don't think it is necessarily new for me, but the posting of those reflections is new. Also, summer allows me more time to think about it more... but all is well in the actual life too, I wouldn't trade it (delusions and all as it were...)
I'm not convinced that it's any one feature, but rather the spacing of those features on a similarly-shaped head. But yeah, that's kinda freaky. I love the poem that came out of it, though. I'm intrigued by the setup for this novel idea... :)
ReplyDelete