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Donall Dempsey
Poems
Jun 2019
CARELESS LOVE SEQUENCE
CARELESS LOVE SEQUENCE
* * * 1
HE CAN DO HIS OWN ****** IRONING
She sits feet up
(at last)
with a strong cup of tea
(the way she likes it)
he and his weak tea
( pisswater she’d call it )
she’s ignoring him
because he’s ignoring her
(he can’t say she didn’t
call him)
she’ll be annoyed if
he’s forgotten to bring
her washing in
now it’s raining
(he can do his own ****** ironing)
always tinkering with something
in that old shed of his
(just like his father)
probably never even saw
the sunset she wanted him to see
how many times
did she have to call him
always a puncture to be repaired
or a neighbour’s radio
that needed to be
mended
“Give it to Jim...”
people’d say
“...he’ll fix it! ”
as if he were an old adage
or proverb or whatchmacallit
too vain to wear
his glasses
his eyes almost closed
her laughing at him…watching him struggle
half way
through the ads
she falls asleep
mouth open snoring.
Jim only looks like
he’s sleeping
a neighbour’s dog
finding him
in the early hours of
the morning
his hackles
rising.
* *
2
YOUR NAME UPON MY LIPS…YOUR NAME UPON MY LIPS.
The heart attack
a moon
pierced
by the silhouette of the hill
pain a wolf
howling your name
as each heartbeat
a naked fleeting footstep
running through wet grass
frantic to reach
the lovely lady who laughs
at the stupidness of
your question:
“My name is Death
...why do you ask? ”
Your own name
in a slightly foreign accent
lingers about her lips
vanishes
in a kiss.
* * 3
HE GOT THE OLD GRAMOPHONE TO WORK AFTER ALL
The heart attack
carelessly yawns
unimpressed with
the beautiful sunset
an automatic sprinkler
watering the lawn
the grass wet against his face
as he clutches the earth
trying to hang on
as if the Laws of Gravity
have been reversed
the tic-tic-tic
of the automatic system
lost every now & then
in a dog’s bark
water droplets
staining his skin
like washing on a line
that somebody’s forgotten
to bring in
out of the rain
blue and yellow pegs
lie scattered on the ground
a favourite blouse
that horrid lurid Mexican shirt
run around
together
before deciding to elope
with the breeze
an old fashioned
gramophone
playing: “Careless love
...oh careless love! ”
the glisten of the shellac
the music stuck
in a groove
repeats itself
repeats itself
until it
winds down
his wife’s voice
searching for him
room by room
“Oh, where’s that man
when you want him? ”
“Jim...Jim! ”
her voice echoing
at the end of Summer
a skein of birds
moving as one
wheel across the sky
first one way and then the other
taking her breath away
Jim’s favourite programme
is about to come on
the night listens
to her calling him.
Written by
Donall Dempsey
Guildford
(Guildford)
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