Daily Archives: January 12, 2018

The Latest Chattering Class Agenda by Peadar O’Donoghue

I am not a silent poet

There, oh there,
dying a thousand mad deaths
decades after, centuries after,
they are all after,
John Clare.
Field hand,
workman,
mad man.

SonofaNietzsche,
the jargon’s wobble hints
lack an atomic bomb
the certain lack of largesse n’oblige.

We, sisters, brothers,
mothers, fathers,
sweat-greased caps doffed,
of all shades,
black lungs
like forelocks tugged,
the mores they change
the mores they stay the same,
the middle classes fighting
for themselves,
the working classes,
defeated, conned,
subjugated, the best of us
fighting amongst ourselves.

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Memoirs of a Selkie Child by Joanne Key

I am not a silent poet

Windswept, Mam walked the shore

with her offerings: a chest full of gulls,

a numbness deeper than all sleep.

Wading into the roar

until she was up to her neck in it,

she’d slip off her feet,

shed her heavy sense of emptiness.

She’d wait forever for a glimpse of seal

despite the north wind slapping her backwards

and the fella who stole her skin

waiting up on the dunes.

Even moonlight died on him.

A man full to the brim with drink.

Most nights he’d beat the tides out of us

and threaten to carve his name on her,

button my lip with a fishhook.

After the storms,

we’d wander the beach or she’d reel me up

from sleep in the small hours to float me

in the gentle rise and fall of her grief.

Many a night I found her calling out

to the water in the same…

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The Shithole Countries by Antony Owen

I am not a silent poet

What makes a shithole country?
A hurricane with a white man’s name that voodooed Haiti and Orleans?
If I spoke Creole and something poetic would it re-home the numeric refugee?
If I un-spoke what makes us human would my tongue weave the word shithole country?

I read once that America was made by an ideal
The redcoat savages who spoke politely were defeated by an ideal,
The redskin natives were massacred by migrants, white as the wolf-skin moon.
I was read once by a woman from the Marshall Islands nuked by America sixty seven times.

Is this what makes a shot hole country, I am so confused.

What makes a shit person in a shitty world?
Is it when people are reduced to automated slavery?
Is it when the sacred land of its ancestors exhumes oil through bone?
I heard a girl called Malala once speak a whole world unto…

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