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uimhir a trĂ­ (no. 3)

Loneliness is timeless Emotion is listless I crane my neck to hear the sounds Of my own body in a swansong. The musicality of utter stillness, Tuneful breath. Walls that echo lullabies I fill my empty spaces With a handful of chords A mouthful of words And an earful of sound.


Motion and stillness, Stillness and invisibility. Sight in all of my dark places Without my hearts song I would be lost. But my brain plays a tune Through my thickened darkness I find light I find peace I find respite In shades of silence.

shot in the dark god #18 Where’s my phone, asshole! Because I wrote something down while texting and drinking and driving and leaning and looking for a lost dog in the elbows of a K-Mart tract of blackbirds and bicycle bones. So adaptable the litanies we accept, the odors of thunked skunk, the signs in my K-Mart mind I’d prefer my remaining friends do notice: Excuse Our Mess. Let’s check the news: AT DAWN THE CHILDISH DRONES TSUNAMI OUR CARPETS RED; THE TALKING MAWS GLEAM SO CLOTTY; THIS INTERNET THING, IT’S CATCHING ON; FORECLOSURE ON THAT GOLDEN BUCKET OF HUNG HAM, MOTHERFUCKERS/something/energy/ something/ energy or I’m writing this on a white/new thing that clearly isn’t white or new enough, God. Crazy, insane sometimes it’s such a relief to not really know You and me yesterday standing naked in my kitchen and I’m rattling a Pop-Tart at the children and my wife wades in, bangs her forehead boat into my shimmering hard rain of Pop-Tart crumbles and she says the children are too old for naked me and all this spiritual whoop-de-whoop when what they need is boxed berries and certain celeries and white and new something smells in the bathroom, something flickers deep within drywalls, and so our dispute arrives gusty and loose in a giant, fiery sneeze: esophagus opens, diaphragm expands oh nasty words! Why must you

allow nasty words? God asks directly. Why can’t you just believe? Who me? Because I feel right now injured in the eye from rice thrown at a wedding/bitten by a ferret while changing a profession/flung jumping out of bed to catch my cat who has fainted/misstepped in hot pursuit of paperwork bandits/foot caught in pajamas; tumbled down digital stairs/poisoned hand unpacking significant medications/ missed mattress in leaping over dislocated glass/lapsed hard while playing blind man’s bluff/bludgeoned by a bucket of mortar thrown onto my head while mowing/indeed did swallow a wishbone whole/ slipped on versicolored steps of an attempted intervention/toppled by suspicious removal of my favorite chair when I was about to; I was about to sit down, God. Sit down! But God stands there. God sighs (esophagus opens, diaphragm expands). And with one hand fills the wife’s coffee cup and with the other pats the kiddies on the heads and gives them chocolate covered celery sticks and with His third hand most likely dials a particularly smart phone white, white and newand off somewhere in the world is this ringing and ringing and ringing and ringing and ringing…

Brought to you by: Illustration by Chihhsiu Yang poetry by Aoife Read Fiction by Sean Lovelace

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uimhir a trí - pocket_esc  

Containing illustration by Chihhsiu Yang poetry by Aoife Read fiction by Sean Lovelace

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