Funny Fat

Find myself sitting in the car. Slowly, I’m steaming the windows up. That time of year. Everything on its way out.
Reading war poems. Likewise.
I see a giant climbing the stile to disappear into the woods in a blink. How, I don’t know.
Nor did his dog. It ran into the road and then it, too, vanished.

The car seat all the way back now. And my feet up on the dashboard. I’d draw what I see, but it would look like diarrhoea, anti gravity, black ink.
Would make sense. But who needs sense?
Certainly not that kind of sense.

The giant rips into the biggest tree. I’m looking at him through binoculars. He is clumsy. Like a baby. Funny how fat has that effect on the body.
Also, he has earphones in.
He raises one arm, blocking out some of the pathetic sun, and jabs a branch into the earth.
I chew on a dry ciabatta and consider the orange juice (from concentrate).

My phone lights up in my hand.
‘We need to look at this mess. It’s everywhere.’
I roll a cigarette instead.
As I puff, my heart makes itself known.
As I turn the page, the headstone man complains about how the war overseas is affecting business at home.
I shut the book.
The sun has gone.
But the colossus baby man is still there.
I flick the cig out of the window and it lands in his bellybutton.
Cradled amongst the fluff and hair like a dirty, brown paper candle.
Serve him right.
They have to learn.

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