the heel of the boot v

she drives
so i can faff
do you know
you hoove
with a hoover
and you put
loash on
overtake a wobbler
driver’s drinking a beer
with the phone to his ear
a green flash
from the monoxide meter
and an electric shock
from the wall socket
another laptop tizzy dash
stranded at the front
while the crew all pee
with the woman
from yesterday’s cafe
then reunited in aisle six
iron oxide
on duck egg gasometer
queues likely
on the way into town
best do some health
whole meal dinner
with broccoli prizes
should have had a taco,
chickened out

eventually, you know, you will hoove with a hoover. or the robot hoover will hoove the house. much like an apron used to be called a napron, words necessarily get perverted over time. i could care less! literally. that was a really nice holiday. then i had a brocolli prize dinner. i sort of had one last night on a train as well. whole grains, fat, brocolli. i really like brocolli. i don’t understand the low regard with which its generally regarded. this is a theme i will return to next week.

the heel of the boot ii

the roman tricolore
basil, tomato and cheese
and the teal from the sky
to the seas
post ride,
ride the tide to ankle deep
eat the weans’ white ices
except
oor wan wean’s
nae teethen’ yet
a semi colon;
then we slept

but then we were on the holiday and it wasn’t stressful. the food was great. the weather was great. i made new friends, including a cheerful baby who had just learned to wave.

the heel of the boot i

couldn’t eat
the dinner she made me,
enzymes fail me
she forgets her passport!
in the air,
hunger avails me
credit card stand off
at the hire-car shop,
assistance is futile
trees like gobbled snails,
a white wine week of vees while
i unthread the pedal
and am not trusted
by the bike hire goon
tricasse porto, pizza, costal
flustered
mostly on wheels…

when i’m very stressed i don’t just not want to eat, i find trying to very unpleasant. i wasn’t quite that stressed before the holiday with my girlfriend’s friends who i hadn’t met but it was stressful enough to hit me in the appetite. then the morning was stressful too. in fact, everything was a bit stressful to begin with. credit card wouldn’t work at the hire car shop. a bike shop goon thought i was a bad mechanic. i mean, i am not the best mechanic, but i know what direction the pedals screw in. anyway.

sports food

as a broken limb
altered my spin
i bonk by bonkhill
(they slip a shag
in every gap)
i could be ripped
i swear
aside a predilection
for chocolate and beer
it’s a bitter sweet dichotomy,
but i need treats
eat sweet gelatine,
spluttering
up the mountain
traffic jam

what got me into sport? as a child, i just liked playing football. i was obsessive, it was all i did. i was a skinny wee boy. but i always thought i was fat for some reason. i wrote a short story about body image and social difficulties when i was about 15. i called it sunburn, but my teacher said it should be called ‘in your shadow’ and i just went along with it. i was thinking about it the other day, and decided to rename it ‘shade’.

i will dig it out and post it the blog sometime. but that was just a digression. i lost my connection to sport when i left school, and did get a little bit fat. because i love eating sweets. so i started dieting and running. lost the weight. felt accomplished.

but to keep the weight off, i needed to keep running. and, the sums are no good. a 40 minute run might only burn off two mars bars. so i got into road cycling. and now i just eat whatever sweets i fancy whenever i want. i’m not sure i would recommend this as ‘healthy’ or anything.

post-prandial down-dumpsy meek remainderman rain run

i was listening to a lot of podcasts about health. i’d had a couple of health scares. i ended up going down a few false paths. got misdiagnosed with various things. i wouldn’t recommend, it was all quite stressful. turned out i didn’t have copd or an inflamed prostate or whatever but i am autistic.

anyway. post-prandial means ‘after eating’. i kept hearing it in podcasts and i liked the way it felt to say it. i’m prone to echolalia. and i must have been feeling down in the dumps. must have went for a run. and meek remainderman is an ironic biblical reference.

friends, what we are dealing with here is melodrama.