Plump Black Crows, Stories and Poems

By G V Simoni

Plump Black Crows is a collection of five stories and five poems all from gv simoni's early work. The stories explore the sometimes subtle, often brutal interplay between the creations of nature and the constructs of man. The first story, 'The Agnostic,' looks at a young man's first public humiliations that occur at church and at school. The last story, 'Another Day,' recounts the mundane doings and nostalgic memories of an old man 'doing time' on a cold and rainy day . In between, the three remaining stories explore the burgeoning friendship between an old, veteran climber and a young tyro, an infidelity both physical and intellectual that divides two one-time friends, and the self-loathing of a man scarred by war, by family, and by society.

The poems provide a counterpoint to the stories. They are constructed as free verse, but do have a semblance of structure. More word games than poems, simoni blends concrete images with abstract notions to create impressions that tease the intellect and kindle the emotions. While the five stories have a distinct chronology, young to old, the five poems merely offer suggestions of a similar development.

• Language: English
• Publisher: G V Simoni
• Release date: Mar 27, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311420572

G V Simoni

gv simoni has worked as a ski instructor, journalist, track and field coach, and public school teacher. His articles have appeared in many small town newspapers as well as Parade Magazine, a feature of The Sunday Oregonian. He enjoys writing in various forms and styles, and has written novels, stories, poems, essays, and a training manual for competitive middle distance running. He lives in the Pacific Northwest with his wife and two elderly collies.

Book preview

Plump Black

Crows

stories & poems

gv simoni

Copyright 2015 by gv simoni

All Rights Reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced.

Brief passages may be excerpted for the purposes of review.

Published by gv simoni

PO Box 433

Brightwood, Oregon US 97011

[e-mail]

TO

merrily, merrily, merrily

life is but a dream

CONTENTS

Poem: gray snowladen cloud

Story: The Agnostic

Poem: plump black crows

Story: Any Man's Death

Poem: sleeping snake

Story: Boucherie

Poem: fishing

Story: The Ambush

Poem: ilwaco wash

Story: Mutability

About the Author

gray snowladen cloud

gray snowladen

cloud

from which

ridgetop and raven

suddenly appear

THE AGNOSTIC

I

He rode silently to town, ignored the barber's wave, and sat in gloomy silence when they arrived. The women were raking the goldenred leaves from the grounds about the old white church. Damp piles smoldered, smoking. The priest stood at the door greeting the passing children, speaking to this one and that, cassock black and shiny in the crisp air.

Now Father Devlin knows, Tommy. He knows all about the reasons why. Okay? I explained it to him and he understands. We had a long talk. Okay?

Do I have to go, Mother?

You certainly do. I promised him you would be there. I promised. Okay?

Will you pick me up then?

I will, of course. Now go on. You don't want to be late, dear. I promised.

He sat with the solemn children, every one now mute in the nun's presence. The boys and girls sat stockstill as she reviewed them each and every one, scanned them with her cold eye.

She said, My tender mercies shall not abide weeping for those who must weep. There are those of us who have not done our duty. Our duty to our Lord. Dramatically, she paused. Thomas Aloyisus Malleus.

The hush of the room.

Yes Sister. So timidly.

What? Wherenow? Speak up, young man

Here Sister. His thin, white hand rose and wavered.

Come here then. Quickly now.

Awkwardly, Thomas moved to the aisle. Browbent, he walked anxiously past the rows until he stood before her, before the class. His eyes found his scuffed toe; he heard the giggles of the white bloused girls.

Ehay is a adbay oybay. Hee. Ehay …

Now young ladies. That will be quite enough. Study your catechisms. Her hand then grasped his chin to raise his eyes. As for you, young man, only the intercession of Father Devlin has stayed me from casting you out. Your behavior is an affront to God. Do you know to what I refer?

No Sister.

Of course you don't. Such a stupid little boy. Well, I will tell you to what I refer: Your flagrant absence from our Tuesday catechism class. Had I known of this earlier, you certainly would not be making your First Holy Communion tomorrow. I can assure you of that. Look at me now, Mr. Malleus.

The fat jowls of the nun slobbered on the bone. Her hand darted up her billowy sleeve and removed a well creased sheet of yellow paper. Holding this over his head, she read: Thomas Malleus. Absent six of eight sessions between the 15th of September and the 23rd of November.

He could smell the nun: stale powder and fetid black gown;

He could see