Patricia Walsh‘s poem: Bypass

Holding up the party, what's not to like?

Kissing to the extreme, fiction or not,

Flunked on profession, the silent procedure

Passed over on promotion, lips being sealed.

Thinking on being a winner, excellent results

The average put-downs sails overhead,

Exclusive entertainment from a national strike

All to the good, the pleb kissing to be clever

The soft research in a hardwon foray.

This rotten forgiveness, driven home, perchance

Rowing merrily down the stream, or the canal

Watched over shoelaces for better insinuation

Dissociative godsends in cafés a pardon.

Taking what's yours, filling it's own box

Creature of honour wasting no tirade

The knife being twisted to no bad effect,

Dead strawberries on the table, avoided

Abandoning stories for the sake of betterment.

Drunken thoughts sweep past the decorum

Having tales of preferment down the throat

Justice for some, or whoever breaks the gift

Accosted to home under mantle of disappointment.

Patronised over a drink, bolstering satisfaction

Waiving pesticide momentarily to bite the dust

Bilateral association scarred on a distance

Smelling of fancy dress when it comes to women

Entertaining on stories that probably ring true.

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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