TWO POEMS – Seán Kennedy

A pipe at the edge of Kilcock’s new estate
pushes translucent waste into the canal;
the colourless essence of the town’s inhabitants
perhaps, infused with aloe vera
as most things are these days;

ONE POEM – Ian C. Smith

For those who forego the languor of home ground, that lethal rapine of routine, the most compelling sound of the travelling life might be a ferry’s foghorn throughout the night

ONE POEM – Anne Gill

In lattie we held martinis,
un-clobbered each other –
left our cats on the floor in nishta.

ONE POEM – Fran Root

Their guitars stand somewhere in an empty room on American soil
Dust spots in the sun settle on their strings

TWO POEMS – Paul McCarrick

The moon will not go down again,
street lights will be on forever and drive
electricity bills into walls with no seatbelts