Hennessy New Irish Writing: February 2019’s winning poems
Mobile Library by Mark Ward; Tangerine in December by Derek Coyle; Fists by Steve Denehan
Mrs P. loves to read poetry. Each month
I bring her an armful of books containing
a clash, a clattering of words, cascading
sounds stack like the skips of a scratched
poet trapped on a scraped cd. I carefully
clean its face and replace her old books
with new ones. I ask her if she has any
requests. She never does. She knows I’m a
poet. I dream of one day taking her my book.
Today, she was still in her stair lift,
her answering-the-door-wig in place
but she’s flustered, panicked, aching.
Her eyes blurring, useless, her missing
spectacles no use, I help her into the chair
slowly. Everything hurts. Joints seize.
She feels the placement of her bones
like a flatpack skeleton taut, tightened,
braced for impact from any movement.