T. S. Hidalgo, “New Year’s Eve”

orange line

New Year’s Eve

It’s a ball,
summer fish in the boat’s spring.
I’m startled to hear
someone from my country:
he’s reading in the frog’s language,
the one of the sad countenance,
like Borges did,
except this one
goes one step further
than the never-Nobel-winning
Buenos Aires writer
and ensures he did the same
“months ago”
with Amadis de Gaula.
He’s on chapter forty-nine,
on what happened to Sancho Panza
wandering around his island.
I try to find someone I know.
I look in front of me:
Bret Easton Ellis is lying
on the couch
dressed up as Jesus Christ,
the author of American Psycho
looks here to be 33,
giving away winks
pretending to blink
behind an enormous white sheet.
They ask him, mike in hand:
“Who are your favorite three writers?”
and he answers,
icy, emphatic, solemn:
“Easton Ellis, Easton Ellis, and Easton Ellis.”
I need, and order, a gin-tonic
“G’Vine, fever, twist of lime and tonka beans”
On-the-house tequila shot too.
So we carry out the liturgy of the moment:
salt on the back of your hand,
lick up the salt,
tequila in one swig
and lemon slice for dessert:
totum revolutum,
shining in your guts.

 

* Totum revolutum (latin): a total revolution: an explosion


T. S. Hidalgo holds a BBA (Universidad Autónoma de Madrid), an MBA (IE Business School), an MSc in international trade (CESMA Business School), a master’s in SAP, a master’s in creative writing (Hotel Kafka), and a certificate in arts administration (New York University). His works have been published in magazines including Otoliths, By&By, and Poems-For-All, and he has won prizes (in short story and novel) from Criaturas feroces (Editorial Destino), AIDA Books, Pandora Magazine, and at Festival Eñe, where he was a finalist (in novel). He works in finance and the stock market.


 

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