Oisín Moloughney, Just Like That

Just Like That

The sky snaps,
Kind amber whirls through
Melted haze,
Pinning its lustre to the
Bottle-scarred table.
Adrift before some jive
Swings back, or a
Candid story unravels along the smoke.
Take another swig, another drag,
A chestful of smoulder.
A few words scorch the brume
Barbed and glaring, and
Just like that, they
Reach out and dip among the ash
As a crackled pyre.

Tyson

I miss the pit bull terrier who’d
Emerge from the treacly green shade,
Battered by broiling noon,
His coat simmered, dusty straw,
His craggy build gasping.
We’d offer a cool swirling bowl, and
He’d bow, voracious and insatiable,
He’d bow and potter, ambling away
Into the deep knotted estate.
Soon we’d unfurl on the brittle grass,
Drinking the drowsy sun with dewy cans and
Savoured meat.
Naturally he’d reappear, bearing
Keen mahogany-smooth eyes and
Hanging, fathomless jaws, his
Sunken chest thumping to us.
One day we hurled at a shrieking outside,
We begged him, his
Bizarre jawbone taut on a
Small dog’s spine.
More than half the estate answered, and
No one wondered why.

A Quiet Walk with The Sister

Pastel fountains surge the whole sky,
Clouds of burst marigolds
Glow above the landscape,
Briefly swathing the shape
Of a receded spire.
Embedded underneath,
A careful quiet,
Rises with gradual embrace, its roots
Anchored between us,
Like a settled
Weary
Sun.

Oisín Moloughney is a student of ICPPD Holistic Counselling and Psychotherapy, raised in rural Offaly and settled as far-flung as Athlone, Co. Westmeath, where he works in AIT. As a young man he was inspired to begin writing poetry after reading the greats Seamus Heaney, Robert Lowell, and Erza Pound; he continues to write hoping to invoke similar feelings in others.

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