“Síle Na Gig” and other poems by Libby Hart

  Agatha Most paintings portray you as a placid woman bearing a salver, as if you were offering cupcakes, rather than the two breasts that were sheared from your body. If there is anguish, it’s half-hearted. If there is blood, it’s a thimbleful. Such feeble depictions of brutal revenge. Some say you were then rolled [...]