by: Hugo Simões
Hugo Simões’ poems ask the reader to (re)invest our deepest level of attention to our lived, sensual experience so that we too can glean the subtle, vivid wisdom that hides in the heart of the quotidian.
A Crunch of Melon
A crunch of melon in the
midday sun; old and yo-
ung abreast, chewing g-
ristle by the window, l-
oud against the deepest
blue. I watch the old m-
an; glum with the bursti-
ng taste of grapes. I wo-
nder, as he trudges thr-
ough his meal, sending
shivers down my spine,
about cruel things. Outs-
ide, there is a wall of ca-
nary yellow. It is wide a-
nd far away.
I Crane My Neck for Ginger Lilies
A stick shift car, through the
acrid smell of silage, on a
red dirt road. I crane my
neck for ginger-lilies,
edging from the shoulders.
The pastures are shorn –
and black rock equals home.
A familiar wet drizzles in
through the window,
complete with the lowing
of cattle. The vauxhall
shifts with a ponderous
roar. In the rain I feel the
musk of warm manure;
and the raucous, roiling sea.
The Flat Screen
The night bus trawls
through the
haywire grass; the
slick city concrete a
Soviet grey. I get off
mournful amid
tower blocks and
make my way slow
through the wide
open road. The flat
screen rests
propped up on grey
stilts, a collage of
windows drummed
into the walls. In
drawing up close I
look up at the fish
tanks – the
bedroom is glowing;
I bask in its light.
Hugo Simões is a writer and actor currently living in Lisbon. His work has previously appeared or is pending publication in Third Point Press and the Río Grande Review.
