poem

Brotherhood

Brotherhood

          Artane Boys’ School, near Dublin, 1963,
          run by The Congregation of Christian Brothers.

Weather Radio

Weather Radio

When I see “Flora”

When I see “Flora”

Xiomara's Vigil

Xiomara´s Vigil

Where will her roving husband dig tonight?
The moonlit dunes that stretch beyond their door
cradle a bounty wrested to the light.

An ancient cemetery is the site
(stray bony bits first led them to explore.)
What will her roving husband find tonight—

clay figurines, quaint pots of black-on-white?
A mummy-bundle?  Implements of war?
An eldritch bounty wrested to the light.

The Woman of Many Whiles

The Woman of Many Whiles

Penelope, shell of an echo,
Pines to Poseidon for her hero,
And still the tide cries widow, widow.
Horizons coastlines over-shadow;
With each gulfed stream, tropical billow,
Crafts sound the idyll of Kalypso,
Where brined airs, isled by strait and narrow,
To hog-tied swine with ears of tallow

Down for the Count

Down for the Count

The Old Flames Rise Up from the Ashes

The Old Flames Rise Up from the Ashes

Elegy for a Sole Normand

Elegy for a Sole Normand

God bless this sole.  When he was just a sprat
he defied his fishy dorsal fate
by lying on his side on the sea bed,
and still lies in that posture on my plate,
which connotes to other fishes dead.
He conquered nausea and got it right.

Lullaby for the Bereaved

Lullaby for the Bereaved

Your hours of tears won’t let you follow
Those who’ve left you alone.
Tonight your head lies on a pillow,
Not beneath earth and stone.

The dead won’t be returning,
Not for all of your pleas,
Nor for all your candles burning.
Get up off your knees.

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