DS Maolalai.

wooden rach on the wall

DS Maolalai has received eleven nominations for Best of the Net and seven for the Pushcart Prize. His poetry has been
released in three collections, “Love is Breaking Plates in the Garden” (Encircle Press, 2016), “Sad Havoc Among the Birds” (Turas Press, 2019) and “Noble Rot” (Turas Press, 2022)

The new neighbour

leaving at seven
to collect our chinese
food delivery down
from the street.

meeting the neighbour
who opens up 32A.
a bag. a guitar. he has
headphones – I tell him

“hi” twice
before he looks
around. tall –
about my age
and german with hair
like a werewolf. I tell him

“I’m D – so are you
the new neighbour?”
he looks at his key
and just looks at me.

Moments things breach

coming up over hills
on unnameable roads
and the bends in
toward dublin, from
blessington, past
citywest; there’s a spot
where the left
of the road drops
its shoulder –
makes the shape of a cliffside
and puts away trees.

it shows, for a moment,
the city, spread out
like a gold and black
tablecloth, candlelit,
evening. it’s christmas –
well, no, it’s the bone
of december.
I’ve been down
braciola. I am going
home now. my windows
rolled open and taking in air
and the squeezing
sponge warmth
of the valleys
and what we call lakes.

the evening is soft
and the day crystal
brittle. I feel tougher
than sunlight; as tough
as a cyst on your neck.
there are moments
things breach – like me,
driving out past this fall
in the treeline, this hung
towel view. you think
things like that,
about strength – no,
you feel them.
there are things,
if you thought them,
that wouldn’t be true.