Ode to Silverback 4

Ode to Silverback


Sand-flapping and gill-gasped,
Body like a serving: a slice of bread,
Wet on the beach.
Life and death at odds with the summer sun beating.
And Silverback, stanced and ready there
for the verdict, unsure of where to focus:
On the fish themselves, or on the now-empty net
glistening overhead.

I push her out to sea on a synthetic shade of blue.
A foam mat, cresting the depth,
something like seven feet of fish water.
Tethered to the dock, she is my seaward landrover.
Where she floats is where my home is,
I'll fall asleep every night pulling sand and seaweed loose from her coat.


truth: excuse me, she's the cutest baby i know

I bring a spare pair of shoes because she likes to wear mine over hers.

I gave her a mohawk this morning.

She is pretending that a Frosted Mini Wheat is her cell phone.


graphics: 2 / truth: better days

the jobbie interview went so nice.  i wore my monroe and i told them that i sew dresses out of cigarette boxes in my spare time and i told them that i am a professional trampolinist NOT and that i prefer malbecs to pinots.  we talked about figs and new zealand and management strategies, and the only lie that i told them was when they asked about my tattoo and i said it symbolized my boyfriend (rather than saying ex-boyfriend) to avoid sympathy-hire.  and now i have been scheduled for a final interview with the founder of the company and then i'm in business. 

also, kitten did an apology about 6 hours after my interview and we had a fix-it and now we are having phase 2 of our relationship, so my lie became a truth; therefore, i still cannot tell a lie.  and here is another thing: phase 1 ended in me cryingcryingcrying and then realizing that i have the best family and friends and professors and puppies in the world.  everyone who supported me gets 100 roses just as soon as i win the raffle - which, obviously, i did not win, though i did win a bouquet of sympathy daisies, candied nuts (unfortunately i had zero appetite), and a card signed by the intern staff at 101.3 KDWB.  i even received support from some very nice completestrangers one day while walking around st. paul on selby, giving high-5s to everyone i saw.  one completestranger held my hand when i 5'd him and asked me my name and how i was doing.  i said i was rachel and sad and that i was on my way to eat some pizza.   so i love everybody.  i even love the jehovah's witnesses who came to my door the other day, dustin-john-and-remy, for telling me that the world is beautiful and that beauty is not an accident.  thanks for the reading material, guys. 


graphics: 3 / truth: shit


i had 2 whole interactions with my dad.  the first was presenting him with the options: sandwich, eggs, or pasta, to which he responded, "have you seen my rifle?  i had it last night, can't find it anywhere, it's about 3 feet long."  the second was when i slugged him in the arm and said, "that's for taking my boyfriend's side," to which he responded, "you were testing him," to which i responded, "bullshit."  for the record, i was not testing him.  tests are for pupils.


i am single for good.  i got the dump last night and didn't get 1 wink, cried on my dog, contracted a decent sized migraine, decided to go for a run at 4:45 in the morning,  then went to nanny for my tinyfriend.  again, she was mistaken to be my baby while we were playing at the park, and i was informed that she is the most beautiful girl in the world and that i am truly blessed.  strangers say nice things with the expectation of affirmation, and tinyfriend is beautiful, so i said "thank you" and did a lie (!!! job-getting practice !!!) and pretended to be truly blessed (when in reality, i was a perfectly contained wreck fueled by caffeine and impeccable repression, rocking a toddler in a purple plastic car-on-a-spring while yelling "JUST LIKE A REAL CAR, JUST LIKE A REAL CAR!" ).  i got home and chopped off my hair (silverback watched) and threw away things that made me cry and snuggled with silverback and stormfellow and told them that i simply love them and that i cherish their support.  and then i booked my ticket to PA, flying in 17 days, to see my all-time maximum badass mentor (who i have not seen since 2009).

job interview tomorrow.  i thought about it, and i'm not going to lie.  i'm not even going to take my facial piercing out.  take me or leave me unemployed.


Ode to Silverback (1, 2 & 3)

Ode to Silverback


She came shaking wet,
having fallen between boat and dock
and resisted the blanket –
Would not lay in the sun
because she loves the cool thick of it,
ears slicked back, nose forward.

Three life jackets buckled as one
form a silvercraft on open water.
She stands there, tense and staring
through the surface into the lake,
waiting for a flash of scale.

And later, after my father baits the hook,
I reel in a few fishes.
She yips and jumps, all stomach,
while Stormfellow waits patiently on the beach.


She’s growing a skin tag.
I’ve watched it swell and change.
It’s bright pink now,
looking like a tiny balloon.
Silverback is the life of the party.


Named by the wind and trees
as two-toned, four-pawed and silverhearted,
she bounds and dances like spring in the leaves:
           Each breath, rises and falls like a season

Eternal puppy, she is all of us.
She is all of us when she sniffs the grass.
She is all of us when she gives chase to a squirrel.
She is all of us when her mouth hangs open to whatever
might happen next.

Somedays, I stare into her dark eyes
and I imagine that she hears my thoughts,
and then she yawns
or just stares back at me, insouciant
because I shouldn’t be thinking about thoughts
when there are fish in the lake
and treats in the pantry
and mailboxes lining the street.


graphics: 2 / truth: i can't tell a lie

it has recently come to my consciousness that the reason i am so good at scoring interviews and so bad at sealing deals is that i cannot tell a lie to save my life.  the most recent no-hire interview was with whole foods, a cashier position which i am overqualified for and would rock at since i'm into almond milk and kale and figs and medjool dates.  because i did not "plan on pursuing a life-long career" with whole foods, i was not offered a spot.  in fact, i don't plan on pursuing anything, period.  i don't plan.  i go with the flow and i'm incredibly committed to everything i take on.  but i refuse to make plans.  and i can't tell lies.  and so that is exactly what i will tell the nice woman interviewing me tomorrow morning if and when she asks me what my greatest weakness is.  i hate that interview question.  i don't find it relevant, since my greatest weaknesses do not interfere with my work.  i'm under review for a few positions, and i'm nannying my tinyfriend in the meantime, but i'm beginning to get very worried (since with the state shutdown, i can no longer see my dear, sweAt therapist* - - and i could potentially lose my state health care which would leave me unable to afford the medication that keeps my head on straight).

earlier this week, i entered myself into a raffle to win 1,000 roses.  results this weekend.  i've spent all my spare time thinking up different things that i could do with 1,000 roses.  the last time i entered a raffle, i was in decorah iowa and i was trying to win a motorcycle.  i bet i'd give all of the roses to my boyfriend's mother.  or i'd schedule a photo shoot for me and silverback.  or i'd divide them into bouquets to send anonymously to every person who has ever made my day.  or i'd send them to bill murray because i've been trying to get in touch with him for years.  or i'd put all of them on one grave.  while i was at the florist's, i read about rose meanings and learned that my favorite roses are coral-colored or yellow.  coral means desire.  yellow means welcome back.

*a sweAt therapist is a therapist who is sweetest when his or her client is at their sweatiest (i.e. at their most furiously anxious and maniacal).  the sweAt therapist is NOT sweet like a nice person; he or she is sweet like a person who is has mastered the balance between logic and compassion.  a sweAt therapist may also be a therapist who treats a client who suffers from hyperhydrosis  (like me), coaching him or her on how to understand and cope with their unusual physical condition.