medical sans-serif;”>Just Friends

illness sans-serif;”>An absent-minded kiss

doctor sans-serif;”>in the pale blue haze

of the morning after.

Shrugging off sleep,

Nestled into the half-doze

of wakefulness.

Barely conscious,

the bliss of this brief moment

didn’t register 

til several hours later.

And for an instant,

I was in trouble.

But then I remembered:

I could fuck anyone I wanted. 



gan a hanam,

agus a croí,

gan a gaire,

‘sí ina luí.

tá sí uaimse,


ró-óg le himeacht,

mo chara is fearr.

Michelle Smith


She rests on one knee and the mud soaks through her jeans. Later the cold will make her miserable, but now she does not pay attention to it. Her arms are bent at sharp angles, fingers toying around her third eye. She holds her breath, adjusts the focus and keeps still. Above her head birds sing and some mimic the sound of the shutter snapping. She pushes the trigger, feels the inner workings of the camera in her hands. A sound escapes, like a flutter of a pigeon’s wing. She exhales for the photograph is taken. 

Gets up, brushes the dirt off and walks on, applying her mind to unknown arts, changing the laws of nature. 

Amadeusz Kepinski



As the river flows

So do my thoughts,

Flowing through the city,

My ideas curling round the buildings.


It’s a long way I guess

From one fragment of imagination to another,

Forming the basis for a new communication never heard before;

It’s moving quietly now in the still water,

Maybe it’s from another time,

Flowing through my mind as the river goes.


And you, standing there in the cold dawn,

Reaching for some complex theory

That combines quantum mechanics with general relativity,

As if the morning were a combination of elements

Thrown together in God’s experiment.


The last fish will swim into its coffin,

Another civilisation in decline,

Its language pared down to a grunt;

We let ourselves slip off the precipice,

Forever falling into the memory of a star,

Black at its heart and silent as the universe before us.

Michael Donohue


I have heard

about postcards.

Postcards that fly

and that fall

across the sky

like storms can’t stop them

and storms don’t stop them.

I have heard that,

and always I’ve asked after them

and been told

you have to wait,

and wait,

and wait,

until one lands on your desk.

And I don’t believe that…

that kind of, untold thing.

I’ve known a different kind,

the kind that sit on my desk

waiting for writing,

waiting for sending.


Spicy Gum

there’s something calming about it,

kind of like my second girlfriend

my first real one,

who I used to kiss

after school only,

who used to kiss me

only after school,

it’s kind of like that.

she used to chew spicy gum

and take it out of her pale pink mouth,

just before I said hello.

and it was all cold then

between eyes and chins,

and that was nice.

it’s kind of like that,

so I take another sip