Archivos por etiqueta: Brendan Kennelly


Trout He’s here again. We’re in church. He’s a bishop. He has a long pink forefinger which he Keeps jabbing too close to my right eye. He wears crowblack clothes. I’m all diced up In a new suit myself. Confirmation Day. He opens his mouth, I can see his lips, His teeth off-brown, his tongue […]

Poem from a Three Year Old

And will the flowers die? And will the people die? And every day do you grow old, do I grow old, no I’m not old, do flowers grow old? Old things – do you throw them out? Do you throw old people out? And how you know a flower that’s old? The petals fall, the […]

The Sin

Francis Xavier Skinner committed a sin. It was a big sin, he thought, A whopper, An Everest of error, A mortaller, as the man said, Thinking of the price he’d have to pay when dead. Skinner said to himself, By this sin I have wounded an innocent God. I, Francis Xavier Skinner, have offended The […]


Some are afraid of love, some are afraid to sing, some are afraid to say how fear becomes the dominant, shaping, tyrant thing. (…) ‘Why do I always put off till tomorrow what I  should do today?’ he asks himself. ‘Why am I so afraid of now?’ Brendan Kennelly, “Now”


(…) The Japanese actor describes the Hiroshima smell. His eyes are pearls at the bottom of the sea. The strangest smell is the smell of hatred in the air between two people who once were friends. It’s deeper than the sea and knows no bounds. When she describes him now, she is describing the smell […]