I’m sitting by my motorcycle at the end of the beach in Ipanema at the end of the day. The waves are breaking at my feet as the last human remnants of the frantic beach day scramble around before fading into the shadows of impending night. Everything is perfect here. The air temperature feels just right on my bare skin. There is no wind and the coconut palm above my head is not at any immediate risk of dropping a cannonball sized coco down on me. That’s a good thing.
Some drunken bitches walk past making stupid comments about my tattoos and then they’re gone like three wicked witches… I sit here looking out over the sea. The waves roll in. The waves roll out. All is peaceful here. The distant lights of the favela in Vidigal seem to twinkle and wink like some magical kingdom across the water. A guy with a handful of palm leaves walks by wearing a hat he has woven from his palm leaves. A simple creator, almost godlike in his simplicity. He will never go hungry. He has a simple craft with a simple practical application. I am happy for him. Simplicity is a real blessing. I wonder if the poet can ever be blessed with the same simple fate…
There is a sweet looking couple sitting beside me drinking coconut water and speaking in low quiet tones of tenderness. I am happy for them too. But I am alone tonight. I don’t mind too much. Not really. Beats fighting all the time anyway… Me and my girlfriend don’t get along too well. My girlfriend doesn’t get along too well with herself. That’s a fact. But it’s getting better. I am getting better and she is too. For now we must not interact too much. Fight or flight. I have chosen flight for now. Maybe someday we will get along better. For today I don’t mind being alone. Today I don’t mind anything. After all it’s almost weekend in Rio and there’s a lot of pretty girls selling it out on the street.
A pair of pretty girls walks by and I smile. They don’t smile back. Cunts. No sale. I sit here watching the sea, silently waiting for one who will smile back.
Copyright Jonathan Shaw 2009.
poetic ending!
great series on SG!
buk still inspires
striving artists
hunger artists
The Barfly lives
and thrives
and thrills us all
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