Mask And Fuse Poem by Michael Ó Domhnaill

Mask and Fuse



I've seen the soulless mask of a man

reveals nothing underneath.



I've seen apathetic lovers laugh

at what they label hyperbole.

I cried solitary, in grief.



In dusk leaden cloakrooms

my pleasure was demanded on a plate.



Its absence and early morning extortion

flattened and straightened my fate. But for...



a narrow crevice where I must twist "bemused",

At its end a chaotic bitching mechanism

Where I must kiss the fuse.