‘Glendalough Sonnet’ and other poems by Angela Patten

‘Glendalough Sonnet’ and other poems by Angela Patten

Glendalough Sonnet Rain and relatives, relatives and rain. In Glendalough’s monastic town a jackdaw baby thrusts his downy head out of a round tower putlock and raises an ungodly yellow beak to squawk at gawking tourists snapping cellphones, the spines of their umbrellas dripping on the ancient bullaun stones where monks once mixed their potions [...]

‘burnt offerings’ and other poems by Anne Casey

‘burnt offerings’ and other poems by Anne Casey

burnt offerings swilling cinders of eucalypt forests burning up and down the coast tinged with hints of fear singed possum hairs lifting into clear blue air an earthquake in Italy shakes me awake a mother crying somewhere volcanic embers cycling into smoke of broken promises women's choices smouldering charred remains of exiles' lives democracy doused [...]

‘No Cure’ and other poems by Jean O’Brien

‘No Cure’ and other poems by Jean O’Brien

The Dreaming In my Dreamtime I was the lizard, skin smooth, yet scaled the contradictions of the Chameleon without the colour, for I had the colour of the rock grey, green warm and dry as the sand. My dance was the dance of perfect stillness. Reposed amongst the rocks only my darting tongue would betray [...]

‘Invisible Insane’ and other poems by Afric McGlinchey

‘Invisible Insane’ and other poems by Afric McGlinchey

Traces You can’t decide, you keep glancing between two lines of thought the whole length of the tree-hung street; and you recognise someone saying your name, and you go right up to the moment, right up to the third person within you, but they’re a different shape in some essential way, and you re-read your [...]

‘The First Rule’ and other poems by Susan Millar DuMars

Reclamation   The blood has stopped and with it the need to suckle lesser creatures. My breasts are pale, cool proud and mine.   The blood has stopped and with it the need to shield smaller souls inside me. My womb calm. Not weeping. And it’s my womb.   I’m learning the pleasure of empty. [...]