From salty
to soapy
to sweetly, smoothly, dry
Those days when you run long and hard
Those days when you run
long and hard
And long and hard
the next day again
And your hip flexors are so tight
When you walk down the street
Your whole pelvis sways in the round
And the wolf whistles
The fish in the waterfall
the fish in the waterfall
the heron’s beak
the river does not slow
inspired by https://twitter.com/Fifepsy/status/614886673931898880
Away
He took a pre-emptive swig from the bottle of indigestion remedy, put it back in his pocket and strode with a sigh into the bodega. “Now listen here, compadre” he said, as patiently as he could. The barman looked at Johnny. “Sì?”
“I DO NOT WANT PIGEON PIE WITH MY FINO, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”
The barman looked at him. So did the other people in the bar. Johnny belched quietly. He heard himself being too loud. He did not want to seem unreasonable.
“Yes, of course, mister Johnny. No pigeon pie this time. Nothing to eat at all? I recommend –”
“There is only one thing I want. I told you last time but you gave me that pigeon pie. It’s lying heavy, let me tell you.”
“Senor?”
“Doesn’t matter. Just give me what I asked for before.”
“Of course senor. Here is your fino. And this one is on the house.”
Johnny flushed. “Thank you. But to eat?”
“I am sorry mister Johnny. But here we do not have the macaroni pie.”
Johnny sat heavily on the wooden stool and closed his eyes. He sank the sherry in front of him in a swallow and a single tear squeezed from his eye. He rubbed it into his cheek. He had been away too long.
The day Liam dove into the river
They still talk about the day Liam dove into the river, stayed down and then came up again, blood streaming down his face. They still talk about his da and his uncle jumping in together and his da reaching him and pulling him to the shore and carrying him across the field to the road and getting a ride to the hospital and Liam being stitched up and sent home and being kept off school for a week. They still talk about him waking up and asking for his da and then his uncle. They still talk about his uncle.
Published on http://flashfloodjournal.blogspot.co.uk/2015/06/the-day-liam-dove-into-river-by-simon.html 27 June 2015
Climbing into a good book and pulling the covers closed
The girls split up to read, two went as ones and two stayed as sisters. They jumped into books they found open and wheedled their way into books that were closed.
In her silky fresh book Jackie lay looking up at the frontispiece, body horizontal and a fingertip reach below the title. Sometimes she stretched out a white-socked foot and touched the author’s name with her toe.
Inside the thriller’s hard back cover Beyo ended up tight against the writer’s face, his moustache tickling her nose as he squashed his extra chins hidden. She turned her face to the side and frowned.
Grace and Kirsty were the lucky ones. They dived in, deep into the story, flipped and flirted with mermaids and seahorses, with sharks and sea shepherds, bubbling and blowing and shaking long hair.
The four of them met later, the wet girls giggling and panting and winking and sighing, Jackie stiff and Beyo not smiling. Next time, they all promised, next time, they would read one book together and not leave damp footprints on the story’s last pages.
Under the moon
Under the moon the slow impulse called me.
I felt the danger
I would lose my soul in your soul
to please you.
All the shadows were soft-sugar grey;
the thought of the proteas shone through.
What I meant was “It’s coming on to rain”
The odd spots and dots of rain are now being joined by the evens; the pale pavement a monochrome Pollock on fast forward.
Smile at strangers
Exercise every day except for rest days and delete your browsing history so you are not distracted tomorrow.
The fridge-freezer may well be your friend but do not overdo it. Freezing does not remove calories. Think of the polar bears and floss properly.
Write in your diary at least twice a day after coffee and stretch even when you don’t need to. Though not after coffee.
Pyjamas are for nightwear and mornings and evenings. Perhaps midday and afternoons too depending on season and circumstance.
Read a short story or a chapter of a book before you go to bed and after. Have at least three books bookmarked. Do not crack their spines especially if poems.
Moisturise. You know it makes sense. Smile at strangers.
You’re the boss
“OK, you’re the boss” he said.
There was a short silence.
I looked at him and he looked at me.
Then we laughed and laughed and laughed.
simonsalento 