I lie on the floor where his right hand
has left me, the wreckage of his dinner
around me. The girls are out and the
boys are safe, the waiting now is over
The long walls are papered blue, the
short ones are papered pink. A narrow
border runs around the walls the windows
and the door. At each corner it coils
around and back in stupid pointless circles.
(He is wrecking the kitchen but above that
noise I can hear the radio talking back.)
All over the country people can hear that sound.
In the name of the living Christ can no one
out there hear me scream
in pork and cold potatoes?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like this Sean. There is a great deal of tension in the lines and the wording is just right to present that emotion. I like that there are no ponters as to what and whom the narrative is refering to. This allows the reader a great scope to invent their own situation. Whilst I realise that the structure is three-stanzas (4,5,6) the line begining 'All over the country people... ' and what follows, seem to me to be a seperate stanza with the precceeding two lines in brackets (perhaps?)