Patricia Walsh

Perfected Burn Grindstone to the nose, exacting the fleshIn danger of collapsing out onto the streets,The acrid paint job covers a glut of sinsFlammable cladding daring to venture forth,Apposite namesake grimaces like the times. Spending the non-existent, what now for discipline?The private scent enamoured of the sundryDeclarations of love elected by common voteThe higher the building, the closer to God,Eating as timetabled, allotted time borrowed. Seated without coverings, fair or foul,Interrupted dalliances good for a hangoverTaking lonely seats a cause for lost pointsExcavating into the good life, entailed exactlyThe online joke never failing to discern. The hapless fairtrade, goodly news announcedLoved into a time appreciated without a burn,Wiping the apogee clean of all promiscuityThe perfect figure chanting out of sheer noticeLying into comedy, going into the dissected. Knowing a binary love, the mysterious prop,Rotting while still hungry a cause to celebrateTime being away and dalliant somewhere elseTipping away into rubble a gem of ridiculeGoing to melt in the rain, a recorded sensibility.

The Script Not abiding by the script, the local trajectoryProtecting the unnameable at a certain cost,Accessible journeys home, rowing to the pink,Responsible times abide by the fiasco again. The misbegotten plush toy runs its gamutPersisting on holidays in such brute forceThe turbulent scare in lost corners awokenWatering older buildings to heart's decision. Picking out brain's desire, fury at the pictureWorn incorrectly, a beauty running freeProblems with occupations, permeate its open,The flesh-eating sorrow dying once in its sleep. Hoping to disappear, the surface hot and wet,Mere circumstance holds the ringfort looselyCaught torn and bleeding, experimented onThe similar stories injected for measure. The barrage cold and dry, to the best of recollectionThe final recognition breaking the timely glass,Still being loved despite permanent fixtures,God-given faculties eroded in the light. A heartfelt dial-up doing no favours anymoreA slow crawl into a dying recognitionRunning past glory is a promoted eventualityPressure-cooked to a marked card, eventual learning.

Thin Autobiographical The thin autobiographical erasing it's journeyThe goodly concern runs over this timeVisiting on the job a technical necessityRunning into avoided scenarios worth tellingFeeling rain on this skin covered by hands. The preferred form, drank eventuallyThe defunct visionary a geographical prerogativeSorting vicarious debacles in jig timeAdvising the odds to the slitted wrist,The facetious oddball stop fighting it's corner. No time to worry, associates excusedStalked into a corner, spiking the diseaseCopyright caught on a biting ill windPurchased sketches for friends, needing to sleepMiffed at favouritism walking in a heartbeat. Writing out of a boredom-shaped hole, instinct asideInstantly gratified, a question of taste,Dangerously eating dinner without the meatElectrified blood congealed in its own poisonAttractive persuasions over a silent drink. Not minding issues, going straight for the kill.Finding soft veins for the needle to fly throughLoving at nought, thrown by the lightA martyr for the occupation, ragged as it isScreaming through blood, needing its window.

Patricia Walsh was born in the parish of Burnfort, Co Cork,and educated at University College Cork, graduating with an MA in Archaeology. Her poetry has been published in Stony Thursday; Southword; Narrator International; Trouvaille Review; Strukturrus; Seventh Quarry; Vox Galvia; The Quarryman; Brickplight, The Literatus, and Otherwise Engaged. She has already published a chapbook, titled Continuity Errors in 2010, and a novel, The Quest for Lost Éire, in 2014. A further collection of poetry, titled Outstanding Balance, is scheduled for publication in early 2021. She was the featured poet in the inaugural edition of Fishbowl Magazine, and is a regular attendee at the O Bheal poetry night in Cork city.