We become older
to clinking night
We become in spite
We become no matter
We become electric.
SURFING AT STREEDAGH STRAND
Streedagh Strand pulls out her linen towel
Five hundred wiped-out sailors beat, robbed and stripped
A good savage attending only to castles and mountains
in the Breffni mountains where they hid.
HOME from the festival z z z He is Z beside me a rise and fall of ribcage. He is too humble, too loyal to be assigned E-U-S. Nonetheless, he is my god in this scenario. He does not stir to my arrival, which I am a bruised peach about— all acquired ego, from the poets. I am home, love, ready to graft my way out of the talk-shop. I want to jab his side with my finger, and command an alt universe for us, 'Rise and fall to the woman of your dreaming.' Instead, he smells like a brewery and I fen, a half-naked sliver s s s s of tiredness, touch-screening white light keys of Notepad, as it extends and shines upon his face and arms, my face too — a flickering tap tap hold down transform letter suggest autocomplete flicker tap flicker tap return tap return tap return hold flicker lightning connect socket charge wake up scoop up my body become my peering point
Sample of Five Poems from ‘Transmissions‘, Elaine Cosgrove’s forthcoming debut poetry collection. Publication Autumn 2017, Dedalus Press, Ireland.
|Elaine Cosgrove was born in Sligo, Ireland in 1985. Her work has been published in The Stinging Fly Magazine, The Penny Dreadful, The Bohemyth, and New Binary Press. Elaine was selected for the 2017 Fifty Best New British & Irish Poets Anthology (Eyewear Publishing), and longlisted for the 2016 London Magazine Poetry Prize. Transmissions, her debut collection of poetry will be published by Dedalus Press Autumn 2017.|