Two running poems

Running poem #1
I’m so hungry I could eat a horse, I said when we
arrived home from our run. How do you stay so thin
asked Eliot. I guess it must be the cancer, I laughed.
He said, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.
I’m only fooling with you I said.
That’s the way it always was with me and Eliot.
Always fooling with each other.
Just the other week he’d spread
a rumour round town that I was
going with one of my students
and her father came over to kill me.
The fear I felt, hiding under the sofa
  while he pounded at the door

    screaming blue murder (and worse)
      must have been enough
         to scare the cancer away.


Running poem #2
How many miles ya got, I asked Jim.
Just coming up to six he said. Six, I said. 

Jeez. I thought you’d say nine at least.
I'd left my watch at home and was regretting it.
It was one of those days where the miles tick by
in slow motion, like they've been rationed
and you'll only be allowed your fill if you earn
them the hard way, scrubbing the halls after class
or trading cigarettes for a half decent feed.
Of course, the war was over, rationing was long forgotten
and the supply of miles had returned to normal levels
I was just having a bad run and ol’ Jim was enjoying turning the screw.
It made me miss those days when you could inform
on a friend and they would disappear forever.