The corner of me bed frame did not move , it stayed in place,

It calculated physics just to say fuck off to my face.

And when my little pinky swung past in morning gloom,

The wood struck like Tyson Fury, that echoed through ma room.

I dropped down to a single knee, a breathless, silent cry,

I cursed the bastard architecture under which I die!

My set of car keys on the floor,...

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Orange streak of piss

sheds others’ blood to save pride.

Infests golf bunkers.

Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh June 23rd 2025

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consider these solipses:

measured, carried steeples 

round a brined Mary 

suspended in the plasma 

of hapless, desperate donors 

centrifugal refugees

all unknown behind glass

this is a king's country:

a throne grown too small 

phagocyclic in the flesh

bedsores in the shape of sin 

and

lead of goblets held within

my crucifix is a bullet

made from ...

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