by Christy Hall

Spitting mandolins of duck breast, sizzling,
start to suggest things;

the coming together of ramblers,
we masqueraded as them, on a May morning,
beer-gardened and pecking
aaat KP or WALKERS.

A slurp or two of shandy,
flat and warmed over conversation about
world-travel or mutual friends.
We could talk the fizz out of coke.

aaThe gloopy remains are onions, peppers,
aaaaorange jus—
aaforked into a corner of the slate.

And then on, on to a bull-field,
aaempty and dog-legged under
a road-bridge.

We blanketed ourselves on tartan,
swapped sunglasses,
aalaid back and listened to crows
aaand gulls and far away
dogs bark
and are walked.

Christy Hall is a Northern poet currently residing in the South. He has had poems published in print and online, on both sides of the Atlantic. Recently one of his pieces was used in a literary pamphlet which helped to secure Hull’s bid to become European City of Culture for 2017. He graduated with a Master’s Degree from the University of Hull in 2010. He is currently writing his first full length collection, which will hopefully be launched sometime next year.