Toe Poetry

I’ve not written enough poems about toes Mostly because they’re not that interesting I suppose, But for you, dear visitors to the shindig, No task is too small or too big With meta-tarsals and pinkies I’ll compose. Where to begin this fulsome ten-digit tragedy, No weather reports, sonnets or pathetic fallacy, Straight into phalanges, proximal, […]

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Monochrome

Monochrome This is the voice of the Mysterons, we know that you can hear us earthmen… I lived my childhood in scrambled monochrome, Before internet wonders and the advent of the mobile phone. My screen was 14 inches by 10, Untouchable and no swiping back then. The TV lived on a shelf in the corner, […]

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A poem…ish about coming home

5.00am, Elizabeth Road. “Alright, me duck, where you going?” Saint Margaret’s bus station, please. “Going anywhere nice?” she said. Back to Ireland, back home. “Ah, that is nice. Not much luggage.” No, I travel light… “Well so do I… Them plastic shirt clips and dental floss, wring your knickers out in the sink, use the […]

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After Holly Carpenter…

I saw this http://www.independent.ie/style/voices/holly-carpenters-dublin-diary-my-prechristmas-trip-to-dubai-with-the-coronas-34298504.html and wrote this… Holly Golightly’s Dublin Diary: ‘My pre-Christmas piss-up in duty-free with the Coronas and the fucking Stoly’s I’ve been living the life of a langer this week as I blagged a freebie into the millionaires’ playground of Dublin Airport duty-free. It was my first time ever there and I was […]

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A story prompt with added gravity.

@FaberAcademy put up a #quickfic story prompt. I don’t usually bother but… The prompt…         The story… 9.8 Metres per second squared Wherever he walked, a cloud of dandruff followed; brown trousers, brown shirt and tie, his jacket specked with flecks of skin and chemical stains. He taught us science; how to make […]

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#wakingthefeminists #wakingthenation

It’ll get me into trouble, but sure what odds. Sometimes you have to speak out. #wakingthefeminists #wakingthenation  I noted with ire, an absence of women, Their acts and scenes, unbidden. A lack of words, from these other humans, Their voices profound and vibrant, Does this state, this art, no service; Commemoration, serves no purpose When their […]

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An epidemic, taking our youth… suicide.

I make no apologies for this… Martha and the Muffins played on the radio, “Echo Beach, far away in time…” I held her in one hand, a wriggling, wrinkled, musty thing. Her fingernails were long and manicured, her eyes unable to focus, the heat of her tiny body extraordinary. She looked like a punch-drunk boxer, her […]

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