She didn't mind his toxic tan
or his weasel taste in toothpaste.
What she did mind was
the way he'd Cheshire cat
...
The boy racers
quicken on the Spiddal road
in Barbie Pink souped-ups
or roulette red Honda Civics.
...
Don't throw out the loaves
with the dishes mother,
its not the double-takes so much
its that they take you by the double.
...
Sorrow is better than laughter,
for by a sad countenance the heart is made better.
ECCLESIASTES
...
When he says to you:
You look so beautiful
you smell so nice -
how I've missed you -
...
The demented walk tricky step here
jittery footfall, fractious jibe.
They bicker in the ‘everything for a $ shop'
later when the energy is spent
...
Rita Ann Higgins, born in Galway in 1955, has published numerous volumes of poetry, as well as several plays. One of 11 children, Higgins left school at 14 and first began to be interested in writing during a long stay in hospital in her 20s. In an interview she described her decision to become a poet with a typical lack of pretension: 'You didn’t have to worry about tenses and verbs. You could write a poem without a verb, and if you didn’t know what a verb was – and I didn’t – it was ok.' Her poems, similarly ironic in tone, have been awarded numerous prizes.)
He Knows No Artichokes
She didn't mind his toxic tan
or his weasel taste in toothpaste.
What she did mind was
the way he'd Cheshire cat
the woman from the council
and the way she visa versa
would Cheshire cat him.
It was on the tip of her tongue
to tell visa versa
that he was poison on the inside
and not to be fooled by his silk sheet face
or them hammer your knickers to the ground eyes
and furthermore when he tells you
he likes the Jerusalem artichokes
forget it, the liary yoke knows no artichokes.
She has a good mind to tell visa
about his guacamole hole
only she'd probably pity him.
He had a way of making the females pity him
a toxic tan way of touching the pity spot.
If they really knew,
his favourite food was
dried pigs blood with a thistle on top
and if he's not having a collision with a fry up
he's traumatized.
Jerusalem artichokes my crack,
don't be fooled
by his silk sheet face, she'd say
he's rotting from the inside out
I know it and the street knows it
the council should know it too.