Today’s choice

Previous poems

Martin Mooney

 

 

Lapse

Graffiti artists, known as writers, are often misunderstood by society.
Eden Magazine

The footbridge was skinned in graffiti – slogans, threats,
declarations of love, swastikas. Grek. Kost. Lapse.

I’d assumed lapse was a tag, a nom de plume or guerre, but
as the morning drags itself towards noon the word

has surfaced and resurfaced: lapse, lapse, lapse. Noun
or verb? Am I instructed? Warned? By lunchtime

I wonder if it’s even word at all, perhaps the writer
just sprayed shapes that look like L A P S E by fluke.

And by mid-afternoon it’s drained of sense, a dazed
semantic husk, so that as I cross the bridge again

I whisper it to myself as virgin sound, unsaid till now:
brute air lip-shaped, a world in a kind of freefall.

 

Martin Mooney is the author of four collections – Grub (1993), Rasputin and his Children (2000), Blue Lamp Disco (2003) and The Resurrection of the Body at Killysuggen (2011). A New and Selected is due from Greenwich Exchange later in 2026

Mark McDonnell

Fascinated by the priest’s teeth I don’t realise
I’m kicking the pew in front with a restless foot
until someone taps me sharply on the knee.

Sylvia Banham

Pigeons have invaded the garden, two then four, then a flock.
They roost in the apple tree to nest, reconnoitre or mate
 
ignore my sorties to deter them and shit without stint
on patio and herb bed, foul lovely hyssop and thyme.

Gordon Vells

Impotent in family life and ineffectual at work,
sometimes he would spend a full quarter-hour
just circulating the mini-roundabout on his moped,
dizzy from the power of blocking everyone else.

Patrick Wright

i protest     say how when i’m gone i’d like to rest before the choice to return & go through 
all this again     you sigh as though that’s absurd & endings are just endings     we’re mulch 
& nothing but endless fucking