Shortlist Saturdays: Let's Do It Slow by Basilike Pappa

LET’S DO IT SLOW

He is proud of two things—his splendid fists. I catch him in the restroom admiring himself in the mirror, clenching, so the muscles in his arms show off sleek and strong. Eyes rimmed with kohl, black, hair raven-straight to his shoulders, clad in a white tank top. He sees me seeing him and finds it oh so natural— I’m a man yeah in the mirror he grins.

Back in the bar, drinks and chats and people who sip and laugh and think of methods to impress people who smile, who speak with half-tongues, who may or may not, and who knows if it’s not a waste of time and effort. But it is spring, and the dj plays alice in chains, man in the box.

So he comes up probably thinking easy, nice quiet girl eyeing my self just a while ago, dying for a compliment. And he has what I have, a gin tonic tribute to my taste so fine, and he loves my haircut too. Yeah he is into martial arts, chiseled and clenched—he asks, what would you do if someone tried to—

I say I have no clue.

Punch, he says, punch hard and fast—here, let me show you. Punch me on the nose and see how well I’ll stop you.

And I say I am a believer in your skills, no need for barbarities on this saturday night with great moods in the air tonight and all that yellow flower dust.

But punch, he insists, and I do it slow— here’s one, here’s two, here’s three— just to humor him with my motion as he wants to play boy-impresses-girl so much. And he says not like this, real punch, fast, hard, like you dislike me, alright? Right, left, right as sure as bad luck. Do it now, right, left, right, go straight for my nose he says, and you’ll see—

Right, left, right, so be it, after all I do have something of the people pleaser in me, and the skies crack open, so to speak, as the punches come down—one, two, three—and the next thing I know—

He is clasping his nose, and—shit!—tears pool in his eyes, as the ahaha pours out of me mixed with are you alrights—oh the merry athenian nights of times not so long ago—yeah-I’m-a-man says alright, now do it slow.

Basiliké Pappa's poem Let's Do It Slow placed second in our 3rd Anniversary Poetry Contest! Basiliké Pappa lives in Greece. Her work can be found in Carmina Magazine, Heron Tree, Dark Passions, Otoroshi Journal, DarkWinter Literary Magazine, Femku Mag, and other places. You may also read her in the anthologies Tranquility: An Anthology of Haiku (Literary Revelations, 2025), Petals of Haiku (Literary Revelations, 2024), Darker Objects (Indie Blu(e) Publishing, 2023), Hidden in Childhood (Literary Revelations, 2023), Wounds I Healed: The Poetry of Strong Women (Experiments in Fiction, 2023) and Shaping Water: Erotic Haiku and Tanka (Moth Orchid Press, 2022). She is a Best of the Net and Pushcart Poetry Prize nominee, knower of stuff and creator of cakes. If she is not at home, I don’t know where she is.