Poems and general conversation from Irish poet Michael O'Dea. Born in Roscommon, living in Donegal. Poetry from Ireland. (poems © Michael O’Dea, Dedalus Press, Amastra-n-Galar)
Her body is pain;
birds flap inside that mesh;
she won’t entertain it, but
a facial alphabet pinballs momentarily.
Her eyes give her away;
corundum-hard crystallised agony;
beautiful too,
bullet-like.
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