hugo

Hugo Osman was a zookeeper,

Secretary to the Minister of Agriculture,

a film projectionist, with my mom guarding the celluloid rolls,

who only liked country and classical,

and sold his paintings for extra cash.

He taught my mom to paint who taught me to paint.

He was a racehorse jockey during the week,

and a vet during the weekends,

delivering calves and ridding cows of ticks,

bringing monkeys home for a night, or eight,

to excited kids and an angry wife.

He wanted to write a book, which I would have loved to read

and never wore socks.

He died on March 24th, 2012 of lung cancer.

I don’t think I ever saw him without a cigarette.

The last thing he said to mom was,

“Why can’t I be like the amphibians, using my skin to breathe?”