Dónall Dempsey Poems

This one
drunk as a skunk.

This one
...

out of this desert
I sing of broken bones…stones
my voice coloured silk
torn from my throat by the wind
...

Sitting in reception
at the plastic surgeon

I see a weeping
...

My Uncle sleeps
with pursed lips

as if kissed
...

My Uncle's old blue van
our delighted childhood

transported from train to farm
...

Although I know her best
& it’s me she trusts

The manager insists it’s he
...

She climbs
upon my knee

& then
...

She climbs
a ladder in her sleep

as if she reached
...

The smoke curls
& coils

itself into
...

'The legs have come back! '

The eyes shouted
...