vaida vovere

Lyrics

when I was small
I would pray
say a list of names
my grandparents and all the animals I knew
I would ask the driver of this cosmic bus to
spare them
and I thought if I didn’t they’d die
If I didn’t they’d
they did
die anyway
I ask of You to make a list
your first pets name
your grandparents dogs or cats name
how he or she became lumpier every time you
visited
and started smelling like worn leather and how the
eyes were covered in a milky film
your kindergarten teacher
the name your first grade teacher
who was the person you first saw naked
the person you first saw dead
were they in a casket already?
keep adding things to that list
how you lost your milk teeth
how your tongue would swing it around
as it was holding onto a single string of flesh
how you kissed someone whose mouth tasted like
mint
or the first time you hit someone
or when you first realized that all life ends
when you woke up a dog that was whimpering in
their dream
legs tying in knots
what was the smell in your grandparents' house
like?
their dishes covered in a layers of grease
the smell of their aging and greying
what was it like sleeping next to someone for the
first time
put that feeling on your list
hearing them exhale swallow sniffle
hearing them warming you
your hairs grazing each other
and your legs rubbing together like crickets
describe it in detail even if you don’t remember
make it up
it is as real as anything else
there was an experience I hush myself about
not because it’s embarrassing or too intime
but because it’s embarrassing how often I revisit it
I had my appendix cut out
maybe you did too
and an infection moved in
a yarn ball of yellow pus
they put a drain in me
I think right by the belly button
and the plastic bag attached was slowly
filling up with yellow
and with stench
sometimes I smell it in public transport
or on my hands after I pet an old dog
the feeling I put on my list
over and over again is them pulling the drain out
feeling it move in the ditch of my guts
pressure
slight pain
that’s how it felt when they said they had died
somewhere there
with the pus and the smell
the pull of something foreign
something that shouldn’t be there
I had my list
and I thought if I didn’t say it
they’d die
If I didn’t they’d
they did
die anyway
let this be a background
your breathing how air
touches your nostrils and wiggles the mucus
the list
let it all go
one last thing to it
what sound are you comforted by?
a meadow grass
grazing itself and crickets rubbing their legs
together
the sound of a train passing
people talking in the distance in a language you
don’t
understand
let this all be a background