Poetry – Kathleen Scott Goldingay
The Lamps of the Virgins from Bearers of the Broken Vessel At dawn, weaving through…
The Lamps of the Virgins from Bearers of the Broken Vessel At dawn, weaving through…
The Continuing Story of Óglaigh na hÉireann All around the snot-nosed parishes of Ireland small…
omeros is unforgiveable they come and they go fleeting wet bullets my bed has left…
One of the main things I characterize my misspent youth by, is a knack for…
Holding Vellum to the Light The pages of the city unfold its secrets like holding…
On the LUAS, she counts thirty cranes spiking the skyline. She hasn’t seen this many…
A poetaster’s tribute to Geoffrey Hill’s The Book of Baruch by the Gnostic Justin (2019).…
Poem written in old age The light that streams across the universe Brings evidence of…
The Jehovah’s Witnesses were driving me crazy with their too-polite knocks and damnation pamphlets. Maybe…
Cyprus, 1965 The lads of the 42nd Infantry Battalion sat slumped on the Land Rover’s…
Try mph To Payney, Tinpan, JJ, Tom P., Tom C., Col, Ry, Peewee I know…
Advisory Epistle From Literature Quangocrat after Alexander Pope About my person, I at all times…
At the end of 2019, I wrote: In these times it is perhaps inevitable that…
Back in the 1990s, you may not believe this, even if you actually lived through…
Sammy Jay, 30, grew up in Oxford and in Ireland by the sea. He…
Rooftop Blues I could go for a quick smoke on the roof, the steel vent…
Translation By Sally McCorry January 1st The first of January is always…
What is it they say about going bankrupt? Slowly at first, and then all at…
The Resistance I never knew what they really felt how they survived the one world…
The cacophony of the city took on a new chorus when the construction of a…