1220 2 2
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The spirit bottles line the top of the bar
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144575
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I was Orson Welles skulking in the shadows and you Alida Valli;
our time measured like footsteps advancing on Gethsemane.
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1323106
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Rarely is Quay Street so clean,
Monday in rain,
Neactain’s ticking over with
Slow jazz and crosswords,
Stout and steaming anoraks.
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68556
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It's not with charity that the lies come ghosting under the door, nor with our best intentions in mind do they commandeer the airwaves, carousing the dead with the rose bed of martyrdom. Pointless in silence, the fallen bells from shelled…
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921139
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First there was an eruption. Which is where it all began.
Spewing ash clouds miles up and miles wide.
It made the non-believers stroke their chins somewhat.
Richard Quest-Means-Business was suddenly a volcanologist.
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122263
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I'm not sure if this is breaking the rules of Fictionaut, but here's a trailer of a poetry tour of Europe I did earlier this year. We hope to break it down into webisodes soon enough to highlight the brilliant readings, brilliant local poets and such that you can find not…
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79786
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I was having a pint in what used to be The Castle,
having just had lunch in what used to be the Augustine Cafe.
I then walked out to Salthill, past what used to be Mulligans,
Apostasy, Le Graal, Taylors, The Oasis and CJ’s nightclub.
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404117
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The bar tender is Austrian but blames
her American accent on Netflix.
It´s totally normal nowadays. Right?
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119997
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I’ve been hacked.
Someone has taken over
my body,
is living my life in another way,
is telling racist jokes
at a party
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47675
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For a man with a poor command of English, he managed
to describe his recent redundancy with aplomb.
“One week, everything perfect; the next week –”
He mimicked a noose being fixed around his neck and
I sat and watched his eyes bulge.
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