By: Patricia Walsh | Posted on: March 2018
These expensive sightings, a probable dissension,
clearing the table at an age’s notice,
unbelievably thick, growing up at the wrong way,
staring into the slippery past, criminally damaged,
laughed at, imbibing a second guess at stake,
head-wrecking to go, thought you’d never ask.
The naked breakfast calls upon the briskly walk,
runway criminals regress into a burdened shell,
to explain the carded player to a blinded animal,
going through the motives an excluded burden,
watching through a reality wrecked through insults,
rights through geography waiting for death.
Overdosed on what’s to hand, violently satisfied,
snapped on elastic, printing on what’s to come,
the same wrecked art, papered over news talk,
blowing hard, the tight veins of another,
the hardened comedian falls short again,
parting with nothing, because I love them.
Bloodied after a fall upwards, if anything,
positioned cigarettes breaks bide the time,
atrocious timekeeping belies the soft tirade.
The funnier lot saving civilisation,
the strict form, the beating heart of mercy
a bone machine in a questioned language behoved.
Patricia Walsh was born and raised in the parish of Mourneabbey, Co Cork, Ireland. To date, she has published one novel, titled The Quest for Lost Eire, in 2014, and has published one collection of poetry, titled Continuity Errors, with Lapwing Publications in 2010. She has since been published in a variety of print and online journals. These include: The Lake; Seventh Quarry Press; Marble Journal; New Binary Press; Stanzas; Crossways; Ygdrasil; Seventh Quarry; The Fractured Nuance; Revival Magazine; Ink Sweat and Tears; Drunk Monkeys; Hesterglock Press; Linnet's Wing, Narrator International, The Galway Review; Poethead and The Evening Echo.