Patricia Walsh‘s poem: Invasive Planet

Someone spins on its own axis, and that’s okay,

Being moneyed all along, willing to let them

The fascistic overtures drilling the face-lift

Futile fury washed over the direction.

Sitting on anthems, a misdemeanour gone soft,

Slitting throats of the still wary, trophy aside

Walking for turgid exercise through the solid text,

Surfeit of characters muscling through heart.

The derelict faceilift goes through its time,

Overt promises moving in for the kill,

Loved over a certain dross, by understanding

Cash on delivery never sounded so sweet.

The heterogeneous screams danger at every turn

Revoking civilised countries from a sleeping sickness

The cosmopolitan birthday goes through the sly

Life manoeuvring on just the same, unknown.

The reciprocal gifts, caught unawares, assailed

Dog-eared supremacy stood on, over again

Needing to love the season, evacuated for a day

Gone through the times where everything sufficed.

The high-ended windows cry for survision

Scurrilous tasks to get to floor level

Slipping into hell like it needed an effort

Vainglorious sentences spin it’s own story.

Patricia Walsh was born and raised in the parish of Mourneabbey, Co Cork, Ireland.  To date, she has published one novel, titled The Quest for Lost Eire, in 2014, and has published one collection of poetry, titled Continuity Errors, with Lapwing Publications in 2010. She has since been published in a variety of print and online journals across Ireland, The UK, USA, and Canada.  She has also published another novel, In The Days of Ford Cortina, in August 2021.

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