from “I want to start by saying”

Samuel Ace | I want to start by saying | Cleveland State University Poetry Center | 2024 | 160 Pages

---

I want to start by saying where I came from.

I want to start by saying that I was a white child who grew up in the suburbs of Cleveland, Ohio. Until I was ten, my family lived in a small white house around the block from a Catholic college, surrounded by other small white houses and the white families who lived in them.

I want to start by saying there were many children and a small forest at the end of the block.

I want to start by saying I thought it was a forest.

Or was it a small tree-covered lot that seemed like one. I want to start by saying that last year I visited that street. The houses were still small, but the trees had grown tall.

I want to start by saying I first heard the word schwartz during Sunday morning brunch at my grandparents’ house. I was five. 

I want to start by saying that my father’s father said the word.

I want to start by saying I also heard that word at Friday night dinners, as in those schwartzes, spoken by my mother’s father as bits of stuffed cabbage and farfel fell out of his mouth.

I want to start by saying I wanted to throw up when I looked at my grandfather’s mouth full of food.

I want to start by saying I had to leave the room to get away from the sound of his chewing.

I want to start by saying I still cannot bear the sound of chewing.

I want to start by saying I want to jump out of my skin.

I want to start by saying a cliché that perfectly describes the feeling.

I want to start by saying I cannot sit at the table when my love is eating. 

I want to start by saying I only learned about misophonia a few years ago.

I want to start by saying that before I learned about misophonia, I believed something was wrong with me.

I want to start by saying knowledge did not make sitting at the table any easier.

I want to start by saying that the word schwartz in my grandfather’s mouth meant the people who lived in the apartment building he owned downtown.

I want to start by saying that during those meals there were loud arguments.

I want to start by saying my sisters and I watched tv in the living room while our mother and her father argued.

I want to start by saying Rawhide or Cheyenne. Brach’s marshmallow peanuts and red hots.

I want to start by saying we would leave my grandparents’ house without finishing the show or saying goodbye. 

~~~

I want to start by saying that in 1962 my mother filled the Buick station wagon with boxes of canned goods, medical supplies, a few toys, and suitcases full of clothing.

I want to start by saying that she planned to drive us to Canada when the missiles launched from Cuba.

I want to start by saying that she bought and filled two tall green metal cabinets with food.

I want to start by saying that she stored them in the basement near the old coal furnace.

I want to start by saying we were Jews.

I want to start by saying my mother’s grandparents were murdered in the Holocaust. 

I want to start by saying that when John F. Kennedy was murdered, my mother moved the tv up from the basement into the living room.

I want to start by saying she could not stop crying.

~~~

I want to start by saying my parents employed a gardener who worked at the house on Saturdays.

I want to start by saying that his name was Louis.

I want to start by saying that he pulled weeds and seemed very old. I was six when I met him but he did not talk to me.

I want to start by saying I never heard him say anything but Yes Sir and Yes Ma’am to my parents.

I want to start by saying that my father told me that Louis was from the south but I had no idea where that was.

I want to start by saying that during the week Louis worked for my father at the asphalt plant he managed on the Flats along the Cuyahoga River.

I want to start by saying that there were tall cone-shaped piles of gravel and dirt scattered around the plant. 

I want to start by saying that three metal green cylinder-shaped silos rose up from the plant above the oily-dark river. Conveyor belts hung from the top of the silos, falling diagonally down toward the ground like roller-coaster tracks.

I want to start by saying that my father, the foreman B, and my father’s secretary were white. Everyone else who worked at the plant was Black.

I want to start by saying that when I was six my father’s parents moved to the country.

I want to start by saying at Sunday brunch my grandfather said they wanted to get away from downtown.

I want to start by saying what that meant.

I want to start by saying to live around white people.

I want to start by saying that when I was ten my family moved to a Tudor-style house in Shaker Heights, not far from downtown Cleveland. 

I want to start by saying my grandparents did not approve. The house was too close to downtown.

I want to start by saying that my grandparents’ new house sat on three acres of lawn.

I want to start by saying three large weeping willows stood close together in a shallow depression near the middle of the backyard. To help with drainage, my grandfather explained.

I want to start by saying that every person who lived on our new street in Shaker Heights was also white. 

~~~

I want to start by saying 1964.

I want to start by saying that I believed 10 was the best age. I had finally arrived at 2 digits and 1 + 0 equals 1.

I want to start by saying that the brothers across the street played outside with their grandfather’s rifle from World War II. The stock was made from honey-colored wood.

I want to start by saying I loved the sound of its metal bolt when it turned and clicked into place.

I want to start by saying that a black Ford Thunderbird with a porthole window sat in their driveway.

I want to start by saying the mansions at the end of the street backed up to a golf course. 

I want to start by saying the sand traps on the golf course became trenches for our war games. The golfers were our enemies.

I want to start by saying that we got kicked off the golf course almost every time we played there.

I want to start by saying there was a rumor about the Van Sweringen brothers who built Shaker Heights.

I want to start by saying single beds in the same room.

I want to start by saying the brothers never married. I speculate.

I want to start by saying when they woke up in the morning did they share their dreams.

I want to start by saying that the van Sweringens wrote restrictive covenants into their plans.

I want to start by saying that in the fifties and sixties Jews and Blacks moved into Shaker Heights.

I want to start by saying that the press said they were welcomed.

I want to start by saying they were not welcomed.

I want to start by saying the language of my childhood. What was said around the dinner table.

I want to start by saying WASP.

I want to start by saying something specific.

I want to start by saying 3139 Montgomery Road. A bigger house than the one we but smaller compared to the mansions at the end of the street.

I want to start by saying another 16. Oh no.

I want to start by saying that the woman who cleaned my ex-wife’s house told her that the number 16 is dangerous.

I want to start by saying my ex was superstitious.

I want to start by saying we shared certain beliefs.

I want to start by saying that when I was ten and a half, my mother forbade me to wear jeans or to play with the boys across the street. 

~~~

I want to start by saying a website says The City and its residents made national headlines in the 1950s when they reexamined years of restrictive covenants. . . . Before that, no Jews no Blacks.

I want to start by saying that I attended Malvern School in Shaker Heights. I want to start by saying in the 1970s: Racial balance continued in Shaker Schools through a voluntary busing program.

I want to start by saying that despite the claims of this public history, no one in my fourth-grade class was Black.

I want to start by saying when the Jews and Blacks moved in the WASPs moved out.

I want to start by saying dinner-table explanations.

I want to start by saying the remaining WASPs lived in the big houses at the end of the street. The houses that backed up to the golf course. 

I want to start by saying we thought their backyards belonged to us.

I want to start by saying that I thought 3139 was an English Tudor but a real estate website says French Normandy. In the photos, the interior looks utterly changed. A redone kitchen, silk curtains, a closed-in porch. I hardly recognize any of it except for the placement of the couch in the den where I threw up the eggs my father tried to feed me one morning when I had the flu. Perhaps also the pachysandra beds my mother planted in the front yard.

I want to start by saying that today two years’ worth of taxes equal what my parents paid for the house in 1963.

I want to start by saying I sometimes think about returning to Cleveland.

I want to start by saying the poets Russell Atkins and Julie Patton live there.

I want to start by saying that to get to school I walked two blocks and across South Woodland to the end of Montgomery Road.

I want to start by saying that one Sunday morning I decided to teach my younger sister to ride a bicycle without training wheels.

I want to start by saying that we took our Shetland sheepdog with us when we went outside.

I want to start by saying that his name was Beaver. Beaver was a year old and loved to herd everything, including his humans. Including cars.

I want to start by saying that when we were leaving the house I could not find a leash.

I want to start by saying that when we reached South Woodland, Beaver ran into the street to chase a car. Almost immediately he was hit.

I want to start by saying killed.

I want to start by saying the car stopped. A man got out and carried Beaver over to the sidewalk.

I want to start by saying I panicked and ran home to get someone.

I want to start by saying I left my little sister with Beaver and her bicycle on the sidewalk. 

I want to start by saying that after Beaver died I could not cry.

I want to start by saying shame.

I want to start by saying horror.

I want to start by saying my mother in tears.

I want to start by saying she did not yell at me.

I want to start by saying I could not sleep.

I want to start by saying my parents brought me downstairs.

I want to start by saying that I sat on the floor in the living room.

I want to start by saying they sat above me on a couch with drinks. Vodka on ice. Scotch on ice. 

I could not look at them. 

I could not cry. 

~~~

I want to start by saying that the Hough neighborhood of Cleveland burned the July before I went to junior high school. A white bar owner had refused a Black customer a drink of water.

I want to start by saying that my mother began to talk about buying a gun.

I want to start by saying that my parents argued about this. Loudly and often. 

I want to start by saying what if.

I want to start by saying like when she threw dishes against the wall.

I want to start by saying often.

I want to start by saying if she came after me.

I want to start by saying would she do it. Buy a gun. 

I want to start by saying there were riots for weeks. Four people were killed, all of them Black. 

~~~

I want to start by saying that when I was twelve the city was on fire.

I want to start by saying that the history I learned in school had no bones.

I want to start by saying that the teachers at school did not talk to us about the city that was on fire. Like it wasn’t our city. Or anyone’s. Or that it didn’t exist.

I want to start by saying that every day we had French class.

I want to start by saying that when I lived in Shaker Heights, I often dreamt of dungeons and torture. I woke up sexually aroused.

I want to start by saying I smelled something rotting. 

~~~

I want to start by saying the deep orange skies of the monsoon.

I want to start by saying we have returned to Tucson.

I want to start by saying that while our friends are away, we are taking care of their little house. Their dark rooms and heavy wood benches.

I want to start by saying I fall asleep in my love’s arms.

I want to start by saying I think about waking up alone. I wonder if that might be the future.

I want to start by saying the yellow butterfly bush, the light magenta bougainvillea, and the deep red flowers on the barrel cactus.

I want to start by saying the smell of creosote. 

I want to start by saying that at first our arrival felt dusty.

I want to start by saying the desire to buy a house on the second day.

I want to start by saying that my friend S told me my boyfriend looked like Jesus.

I want to start by saying I found a Jesus on a prayer card at the Mission.

I want to start by saying that the Jesus on the prayer card was white and very thin with long blonde hair and a blonde beard.

I want to start by saying that my love does resemble the prayer-card Jesus.

I want to start by saying gay Jesus.

I want to start by saying that at the Mission I also found an 8.5x11-inch holographic portrait of Jesus and Mary.

I want to start by saying that tilting the card one way shows Jesus. 

I want to start by saying that tilting the card the other way shows Mary.

I want to start by saying that holding the card steady in the middle shows Jesus and Mary merged together.

I want to start by saying trans Jesus. Trans Mary. 

---

From I want to start by saying by Samuel Ace.
Copyright © 2024 Samuel Ace.
Reprinted with permission of the Cleveland State University Poetry Center.