Tag Archives: poetry

Archway Post Office

‘Excuse me,’ the woman in the blood-red-cotton-
jersey-synthetic mess of a unioned-uniform shirt
stopped. The package, her hand.

The distance of none.

‘Were you always a cunt, or did you just turn
into one when the menopause hit?’

Package snatched back. From hers to hers.

A smile, a wave, a twirl.

Exit left, worker stayed right
there.

Customer served the smile.
What service.

28 April 2017

Wearing a shirt from Baltimore, Maryland,
with the city + state proudly exclaimed in
light heather grey.

I have never set foot on a Maryland street,
though my mother’s name is Mary.

I have only stayed in BLT for four hours
on a lay-away lay-over to get back to
Rule Britannia via Iceland via Balt-i-more,
Maryland.

I have never been in Baltimore,
couldn’t tell you how they speak.
I am a liar.
Someone kill me.

23 February 2017

Swell of the Liffey go,
and away my soul within its waves go.
Tobacco sour turns into tobacco nice
Wave my hair down days
later and I smell it still as I go.
Tobacco smell and North Beach
sand do not leave easily,
and nor would I grant them easy leave to go.

To Dublin City where I met my one,
To Dublin North to consecrate
the meeting of joined words.

Liffey swell
and Nicotine sing.
Shared drinks unite
locked in with trad band and we.

His greyed hair.
Mine blue eyes.
Alone he sits,
with thoughts within.
Dublin man, Dublin true.
Chasing current politics from
de Valera and Collins,
fifty year on
since tainted treaty.

Centrist right governments, Dublin
man says. To my left he sits and
thinks of changed governments.
He’ll vote now Sinn Fein but Adams,
he says, has got to go.

Fifty years of Liffey swells,
of broken hearts and thrown rings in its
beds does it keep.
Fifty years of same Fáill and Gael.
But Dublin stays and so it goes,
with my troubled Dublin man and I
go.