Matthew Sweeney Poems

After the murder, I called a meeting
to see if we were happy. I declared
I was not — I said I liked the man
we shot. You all disagreed with this.
...

Outside the igloo he waited
for an invitation to come inside.
There was no knocker, no doorbell.
He coughed, there was no reply.
...

After Kafka

In the days following my fastings
I sit in my empty cage, the door open,
hearing again the taunts of the crowds
...

If ever the thought strikes you
to head off for the Arctic,
be sure to take with you
a large roll of string,
...

The boy who lives in the wrecked bus
down on the rocks, near the point
knows every yard of the long beach
that curves to the ruined castle
...

Even when I said my head was shrinking
he didn't believe me. Change doctors, I thought,
but why bother? We're all hypochondriacs,
and those feathers pushing through my pores
...

For white he used toothpaste,
for red, blood - but only his own
that he hijacked just enough of each day.
...

the lonely


Incorporating the words of L.S. Lowry


I used to paint the sea, but never a shore,
and nobody was sailing on it. It wasn't even
...

Munich Olympics 1972: there should have been
an Irish gold medal to go with Ronnie's
from Melbourne in 1956, my birth-year, give
or take four. The sport? Push-penny, or
...

Was it Pascal who said "Almost all our misery has come from not being able to remain alone in our rooms"? Baudelaire thought it might have been, but was not sure. And let's take a look at that "almost" which I'm very glad is there. I can think of lots of misery that had nothing to
...