Cian Jordan Quinn

The Three Stages of Nerja


We drive the mountain with Google Maps between your legs
and it’s maybe the first time I am afforded the rank of passenger
without the task of directions

The sky is aubergine enough for the streetlights
to go orange and the servers at Mama’s speak English

After your first curry we have ice cream, I don’t love my tiramisu scoop
and on the way to watch the Med break on the beach
you tell me I need new shoes
They think you’re a giri too and you intercept whispers
of young love and isn’t it sweet


We swim in blue water, let the airecito fan our bodies
and you remind me I can sleep with whomever I want

Back to Nerja, you do the directions, I forget where to park
I sulk over cañas and really it shouldn’t be any surprise from here

But we have coffee, yours with Baileys, mine plain
and talk nicely and take photos as proof


Mama’s – your second curry
I am beyond sulky

We take a walk to find soap for my eczema and I imagine
running beyond the church (I’m barely beyond doing it)

The peace coffees happen, I take a Baileys like you and later
recognise I need to be more Leonard Cohen about these things

Cian Jordan Quinn is a 27-year-old native of Tipperary, Ireland. He has lived and worked in Andalucia, Spain for the past 5 years. He has had pieces placed in The OFI Press and The Glad Rag.