Michael Ó Domhnaill

Silence is solved when silence is met
into the cry space block in a threat
Tell me to confer with obstinate judge
Kills on command, lifts me with a nudge
...

The dry and pinpointed memory

of used up smooth voiced desire
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Balconies' Rail
...

Faces Recollected
...

Playpens
...

Summer Mastered
...

Mask and Fuse
...

The Marketplace empties its bowels
into the avenue's parched, gaping mouths
The recipients of this delicate feast- Their blood dripping from the gouges
made by the tips of thousands of tiny pyramids
...

She once served the broth

and it soon coated my every appendage.
...

I sifted your memory under

so that if the grains of pining loss
...

Hours of contemplation, now subsumed
in cleansing warm flow
Are these my tears ______
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For no longer that a scant beat
my depth lived love died
In a twilit gesture, predestined heat
shook her hair loose. My bloody soul lies…
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F Train

Blown firelight into the
shard ornamented faces of a few:
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Prodigal interests don't get

vested about in my throat.
...

All the soot of midnight's trial

blackens my face in uprooted morning.
...

My jugular severed,

I settled in at the Tunisian cafe
...

My room is a dog's coffin.

My head is a vibrating slaughterhouse.
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Decaying pavement, Decaying iron

in front of the shops
...

I'm the sole inheritor of
mausoleum masks made of dead bone.
I - flat in countenance - blasted out
hollow eyes plead to external blight.
...

Langour in dark's light smiling.
Flow to the deep black- cry in the stone.

Go forth into worlds, chill to bone,
...