Sally Toner

The Rather Mystical Art of Fighting on the Backside

My love–

Think of a good pigdog as a stretch across your chest.
Open that thing up. So what kind of anarchical
statement will we make today? We’ve gotten used to the comfort
of pulling into closeouts inside the barrel. We’ve learned about
explosions and what happens in there.

The plain truth?

I used to like the way you parted your hair.
Now, those scalp spaces are streak marks on the
countertops you never wipe down. We’re facing the wall
already. Our bodies are already twisted and ready to press
eject. We’re already facing the deeper ocean.

There’s a technique to falling–or fighting.

I slam a cabinet, so your head pops up from your phone.
Your eyes, they see the nasty kitchen. They see me. Out
the window, the branches barely wave us over oceans, fields,
forests, we’re not sure which. We’re either trying to slow down to
get deeper or speed up. We’re crazy aerodynamic.

We need to lean into it and trust.

My thoughts are rotten shrimp shells in the trash.
That’s why I ride smaller boards when I’m in backside
barrels. Everything is tucked. Everything is compressed.
You’d be surprised at how small I can make myself. Still–
I can be the blade to mix the wave to a million shades of white.

Once we work it out…

The buoyancy of the wall–how we react–
Then we can really start getting creeeeepy with it.
Situations are almost more positive if we stay square.
We need to know when to jump. And if we’re pulling into
a big close, and everyone thinks we’re just holding on…

We jump. We fucking jump.

We like the control, but we know there are no
rainbows in absentia. We’ll create a vision sharp
enough to slice through smoke, or water, who knows?
We might surprise. How about that? You got a lil fever
for backside riding now?

© 2021 Sally Huggins Toner

Author’s statement: While I’m a strong swimmer, this Pisces has only ever managed to ride a surfboard in on her stomach. Still, I have always been fascinated by the language of surfers. So the article I chose was “The Plain Truth about the Rather Mystical Art of Backside Tuberiding” from Stab Mag Magazine. My own two poems that contributed to this piece were a sonnet entitled “You” and a prose poem entitled “Inflatable Lifeline.” “Inflatable Lifeline” was part of a collaboration with a visual artist a while back. I’m a huge fan of found poetry, so this challenge was especially fun for me.

Bio:

Sally Toner is a High School English teacher who has lived in the Washington, D.C. area for over 20 years.  Her poetry, fiction, and non-fiction have appeared in Northern Virginia Magazine, Gargoyle Magazine, District Lit, Watershed Review, and other publications.  She lives in Reston, Virginia with her husband and two daughters.  Her first chapbook, Anansi and Friends, from Finishing Line Press, is a mixed genre work focusing on diagnosis, treatment, and recovery from breast cancer.

30 for 30 is sponsored by Potomac Review