Hello midnight.
Who so him. Who so Jim.
I saw them pounding leather
sofas around a campfire moonglobe.
Plastic spring water bottles
filling coffee cups
and curls of strong women
foreshadow that Voice.
“Who are you, kind ruffian?”
Tonight I’ll leave my phone
unlocked to notes
waking to the scribbled answer.
The toddler sleeps beside me
on soaked silken letter books.
Did you do this too? She waits
for the flicker. What’s with all
the people on the street with
big bags, have you noticed that?
Read me. On The Union, Dear Sirs…..
Re-gain
Truth to power the cartoonishness
of high art. Consummate of easy
employability. Walking the streets
of my mind most cul de sacs.
Real and fictional, we explore
history pinpointing when we
displeased the gods so as to
self-flagugate as all Marys do.
Little King, you left us banging
the hall’s door down.
Poets r Punks
It’s Good, Baby
The blue things
are holding the
granet, reach in
and swipe something
from its butter –
has broken. I’ll
fix that bit
too on Sunday
now that John
is gone to
soapy tears. Keep
your eye on
the weather, fella,
dang it all!
War-like dolls
dance only at
last chances, feet
not touching the surf, Little King.
Michelle Moloney King {she/her} fundraiser for Féileacáin Ireland, she is an experimental poet, visual poet, editor of Beir Bua Journal, Beir Bua Press and a Primary school teacher.2001 A mother and living with her family in Co. Tipperary, Ireland with a degree in computer science, post grad in education & is Master Hypnotherapist.Moloney King is interested in family life in flux, the plurality of time, and the surreal-absurdism of life.
Pushcart Nominee 2021. Visual Artists Ireland member.
Some of these poems have been first published in M58, 3AM Magazine, Mercurius, Asemics Magazine, Streetcake Magazine, The Babel Towers Notice Board, and Pamenar Press.
Website: MichelleMoloneyKing.com Press www.BeirBuaPress.com
Alien Buddha Press 