By: Patricia Walsh | Posted on: March 2018
This sickly blue sky, not stopping the rot,
or even the frost, better as it may,
juxtaposed with the higher order,
that is the bar, the attic-high presecription,
that sinks everyone’s sorrow, one pint at a time.
Getting good near the end, carded for less,
anxious to read the riot act over another,
taking from wall-hangings a signature strip,
pre-emptive disasters a choice turn,
slipping through fire-escapes burning for notice.
A licence to be depressed, outside geography,
finally mute promoted to a better bearing,
confiscating tear-walls into reasonable parts,
closing down explanations for being the same,
accosted to home the unwillingly seeming away.
More valuable than a sheep! Followed onwards,
burning offerings stubbed out on the street,
the detrimental unison paid what is gotten,
for sake of enjoyment, a seething brain,
being better off than most people, rolled to suicide.
Remaining off the bed, a promise given lightly,
monitoring movements, annoyance lightly served,
realising of love in all its nefarious forms
knowing decorum where applied, collapsing in attention,
disturbed grounds for dying overnight.
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.