Niall ONeill Poems

The drinks bloomed in the cut glass,
And the polished zinc was an altar,
I thought the patron had an honest face,
Though a cosh was behind the counter.
...

Where nickel and glass mingle
in this bar where alcohol reigns,
behind the grid of your ten fingers,
poor fellow, you hide your pain.
...

The multi-colored parrots bow and scrape,
Among the yews and cedars now in cone,
Disrupt the autumn evening with their jape
Along the stretch of petal-strewn lawn.
...