STEVE DENEHAN – Kildare, IRE

Graffiti

It is not the lights
the buildings, the people
that I look at
but the graffiti
on the tunnel walls
the subway trains really move
the tunnels that contain them
made to measure
leaving the graffiti artists
with no space, and little time
and still
in the thin light
the stale air
they risk it all
to leave their mark
I write this poem in a tunnel
standing on tracks
vibrations
running through me
looking for a light of my own

My Birthday

Several people have asked me
my wife, my parents, a friend
even my daughter
whether I feel older today
than yesterday
they think that I am joking
when I tell them
that I do

Twenty-Eight Days

They found her sitting on an armchair
the television on
it was determined
by the coroner
that she had died
twenty-eight days before
neighbours, the postman
had inhaled atoms
of her day-by-day decay
until the atoms had soured
become rancid
and phone calls were made
the door, pried open with a crowbar
and there she was
melting into her armchair
glued
to her reality TV shows
dead
for twenty-eight days
but of course
she had died
long before that

Steve Denehan lives in Kildare, Ireland with his wife Eimear and daughter Robin. He is the author of two chapbooks and five poetry collections. Winner of the Anthony Cronin Poetry Award and twice winner of Irish Times’ New Irish Writing, his numerous publication credits include Poetry Ireland Review and Westerly.

You can find more of Steve Denehan’s work here.