Sean Joyce Poems

It was August I remember
I remember when I met her
She was perfect I remember
in her body, mind and soul
...

It was August I remember
I remember when I met her
She was perfect I remember
in her body, mind and soul
...

Weasel words
with easy starts
are not the first
ones to our hearts
...

We sat on the rug behind the
Bedford van eating our picnic.
The van masked us from the breeze
blowing from the sea and masked
...

My grandmother kept hens.
And her hens loved her.
They followed
wherever she went
...

On a domed ceiling
under a painted God
the painter slips and falls
while his painted God looks on
...

Is this not beautiful, she said
this colonnade of greenery
...

The music is beginning to slow down
and slower still the horses circle round
The man who sold the tickets
is counting his small change
...

It was August I remember
I remember when I met her
She was perfect I remember
in her body, mind and soul
...

Yes, I know, I know.
What, yes really
‘said what?
Really?
...