His silhouette dark under the green canopy of Poddle Park. Walking towards me, the light played tricks around him, like …
Hearse. A poem by Billy O Hanluain
A hearse shines, chrome black on Sundrive Road. Every funeral like Eleanor Rigby’s Now.
The Night We Called it a Day. A poem by Billy O Hanluain
Day and Night play tricks on me now, like identical twins, jokers gloating at my loosening grip on the exchange …
An Lár. A poem by Billy O Hanluain
The minutes cross dress as hours and the days slip into loose, dream sewn months. Time stares at her bruised …
Stockpile on Hope. Poetry by Billy O Hanluain
Walk down the bare, trembling aisles of your self. Everything dispensible is now after its Best Before. Pass by the …