Poetry

Poetry
Peter O’Neill
Desperate pilgrims can seek out, and possibly Find, comfort in the most unlikely places. A sick or dying woman, or man, might Find, possibly, a sign say in a public toilet. . For example, they might find harbour there From the great hinterland of the altogether...

Poetry
Natasha Helen Crudden
For you I died, my lover For you I tore sons from their fathers Daughters from the womb . For you I fought The only thing worth fighting for . Here I am The fire in your veins The spark in your ignition When you are in discomfort Inconvenienced Under duress . There...

Poetry
Martin Appleby
I used to be super into the movement tracked down every movie either on DVD or pirated rips whatever I could get my hands on I loved the DIY ethos the rawness the realness I related to the characters the slackers the losers the social awkwardness the stunted dialogue and those movies and that style the characters and themes have...

Poetry
Kevin Higgins
That time of the week when bachelor farmers decide, on balance, not to string themselves up in the outhouse, bravely switch on the wireless instead; . on Official Radio Marion the defunct feminist-to-a-moderate-extent has a few old pals around for two thrilling hours of cream tea and general...

Poetry
Name
hushed confessions screamed into the pillow each night before you cry yourself to sleep . no one wants to become the crusty old man . it’s much more romantic to die young, full of promise and potential . but on the other side of those myths are nothing . a vast crease of...

Poetry
David Piersol
Dear Georges, Dearest sweet mystic of mine, you saint. My boy Venus, philosopher of purest love. I’m cute so you’ll feed me lesser animals, & that makes you the animal-killer here. You talk about “violating” this or that, but you’ve got it backward: killing...

Poetry
Kurt Newton
ROBERT lies behind leaves and grass. I drive by on my way to work and offer a glance. ROBERT lies beyond the pavement's edge, at the foot of a stone outcropping— a natural shelter from the rain. It used to be I’d wonder who ROBERT was and who...

Poetry
Kevin Higgins
In memoriam Tin Man Ó’Tuathail esteemed literary critic & political commentator . You weren’t, like others, born of Babycham and contraceptive malfunction but emerged fully realised —someone else’s brilliant idea— during an editorial conference of a magazine that went on to be important; your hands clean as mild green Fairy...