Yellow and gray Your skin, the Lee Lungs too genteel For the Irish Steel No last jar At Ryan’s Bar
Opening your door: a manual. A poem by Mark Saunders
1. It is nearly time – we don’t know exactly when – to open your front-door. Firstly, find the door. …
Viral Encounter. A poem by Brigid Sweeney
Contagion you have made some ill, some die Some weak, some weaker still, but I Have found In you an …
Not the Time for Sleep. A poem by Stephen Lyons
What a virus for us to meet It’s origin is not so clear We see it here upon the street …
The Birds. A poem by Josephine LoRe
the birds woke me first, at 4:52 I know the time for I wrote un mot d’amour to my pararmour …