on the motorway
from funeral to airport
a double rainbow
Author: simonsalento
Goodbye
I’m an easy crier, I’m not ashamed –
films, memories, cheap music, you name it.
I thought I would sit,
dignified tears down my cheeks,
but I sobbed like a lost man,
all consuming, muscles and gripping and heart,
because I have felt this – this – before
and know and so dread it’s coming again.
Beyond
Beyond the cloud the sun
Beyond the night the dawn
The dark is dark for its own sake
Beyond the dream we shall once more wake
You kept me in your memory
You kept me in your memory
and I felt I could not leave
I sat still or lay and slept
while you thought of me
and daydreamed
But I had changed and have done again
If you could see or taste me now
you would understand I hope
echo
echo echo echo echo
echo echo echo
echo echo
echo
Prosecco corks pop
prosecco corks pop on the beach
auguri!
good health!
here’s to the next sixty five!
then all in the sea
as flat as a mirror
to splash and pat backs and exchange all their memories
La Forza della Collaborazione
Personaggi
Mimì, Riki, Welan (sirene con dei poteri magici)
Bernie (paguro)
Buck (squalo)
Lewis (tritone, amico di Bernie e delle sirene)
Lewis va dalle sirene e le dice:
– C’è un problema!
– Cosa c’è, Lewis? disse Mimì.
– Buck ha trovato un giocattolo che Bernie aveva perso e adesso stanno litigando! rispose Lewis.
– Andiamo subito Lewis. Grazie per averci avvisato. dissero in coro le sirene.
Le sirene vanno da Bernie.
– Lascia stare Bernie! disse Riki.
Lo squalo rispose: Voi pensate che me ne vada così facilmente?
Welan creò una tromba d’aria sopra lo squalo, Mimì la congelò e Riki fece cadere dei pezzi di ghiaccio bollenti sullo squalo.
Buck se ne andò piagnucolando per il dolore e restituendo il giocattolo a Bernie che ringraziò le sirene.
FINE
Anna Martina Piccinno
Simon Williams
Stabilimento 2 Laghi, Laghi Alimini, Otranto
26 luglio 2018
Birds are awake
Birds are awake
Dawn does not break in silence
What do you expect
Yesterday had been a day when you sweated standing still. Today the August storms arrived ten days early. Palms dipped and swayed close to parallel with the ground. Shallow roots held as the rain had not yet softened the sun-charred earth.
Vito looked up from his cards and wrinkled his nose: it will all be past in half an hour. The far horizon was lightening. Thunder was far away above the sea.
The cicadas were silent. A single bird sang. It could have been warning, it could have been sorrow but it sounded of triumph. And now the sky was close to half clear and the rain had stopped. Shorter, weaker gusts of wind switched the olive trees from green to silver to green again. They shone in the reappearing sun.
Vito looked up again. What do you expect, he said. It is summer. There are strangers. What do you expect.
Scirocco
from southeast horizon no air stirs
on the darkest sea clouds foam
thin cotton clings to skin
thoughts refuse to fly
