Slán abhaile

Slán abhaile.
by morgan malloy
The sunshine nova set sparks to the tops of fire trees
Spattered yellow like gold paints and my Mother’s chains
Dear preserved, saline soldier,
We dreamt without our life preservers
A fleeting feeling with the ships lost at sea in turnstile tunnel grays
Nothing is worse than the old summerhouse atop a submerging submarine
Tweedy, fingerling, sprinkled cupcake grass
Rusted keys without a lock to instill home and placement
is an old antique of tattered silk scarfs and open winter frosted windows
A tea time train howls into zero-zero
Mystic metals pinned to walls with orchid fortitude
Rising time, sinking highs, of

0 thoughts on “Slán abhaile

  1. an abundance of alliteration really makes the reading right. the almost rhymes (i.e. “saline soldiers”/”life preservers) hit just the right chord. these fun little moments make this poem stand out to me as something i should read at least a half-dozen times.

  2. This is really nice. The only thing I would have done differently is insert some line breaks. . . there are space in the piece where the mood/setting changes and instead of launching into them I would have let the reader know this idea is set apart. . . I’m not able to elucidate on what I’m trying to say here (no coffee in the house), but overall a strong work. I love cupcake grass, by the way, especially when served on a plate of mystic metal.

  3. Yeah, I agree with Misener. When I look at this, I immediately begin playing with line breaks. Using that device more imaginatively would pull additional strength from the vocabulary and even make some of the weaker word choices work a little harder. But, beginning with the Irish title, it’s evocative, and I like the way it uses nouns for modifiers. On the other hand, it’s also a bit over-modified. I must like it, though, because I’ve read it about a half-dozen times.

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