nthposition online magazine

Good old days


[ poetry - january 09 ]

On a cold winter's evening
When Galway was a village
And the streets closed in against the grey
Pigeons, the grey of coming dark
Televisions announced tea
The daily news of unemployment figures
Tears on Levi's,
Later, Sally O'Brien and the way she might look at you
Tourists looking for Harp

On a quick walk to alleviate tedium
You spot
On a drapery window in Abbeygate Street
An ad for "terminal underwear"
Someone spelling out
Your quiet life of desperation
And on a glass door in the Cornstore
An A4 sheet with an invitation
To learn a "Marital Art"

Your mind snaps
Into pieces of words
That will not pronounce themselves
Slide on a single sound
To unease and loneliness

In the struggle
Of all your inner conversations
You talk to walls
There is nothing warm about concrete
Even the tea shops are closed
The night falls
Heavy on your shoulders
As you go through your front door
Shake off the evening