Padhraig Nolan's Blog

Dispatches

Written back in late 2007, but seems appropriate to the current Irish climates;

***

Dispatches

This morning, the patio is a chessboard
Drained of fight, a low contrast
Truce of gritty concrete squares

Slick under furniture pieces disarrayed;
Mouldering victims of a thuggish midnight squall.
Brick red when first assembled, inclemency
Has shrunk their ersatz teak to oldbone grey.

I know they've reached the rotting stage.

The last time they were used, not one
But two seats rent that sunny afternoon,
Their rundles detonating under laden
Celtic tiger arses, ambushed.

***

This poem featured, along with a few others, in issue 2 of Polluto - the 'Apocalypses and Garden Furniture' issue. Now there's a theme and a half - and how bizarre that I actually had a poem which fit nicely!