“The Shankill Road”

By |2023-06-15T17:42:04-05:00January 29th, 2019|Categories: "On the Shoals" by James Matthew Wilson|

Let me tell you about a bullet And a body.             -Virgil A Sunday Mass Tolled its loud bells While we all stood Near tenements; And broken glass Crunched like old shells Through the neighborhood, Where a mural presents What’s come to pass: Masked men, spent shells, In a field of blood And discontents. Republished [...]

“At Bar Harbor Once, And Once…”

By |2022-02-11T08:22:43-06:00January 22nd, 2019|Categories: "On the Shoals" by James Matthew Wilson|

Innis mór We scrambled up the craterous outcrop That ruptured like an isle among gray sands Spread thin around Cill Éinne Bay.  A sop Of drying kelp lay tangled in red strands, Half-covering a shallow pool, inside Which a few trapped snails slinked till the next tide. Some other aged and rough concentric shells Hung from [...]

“Slane Hill Graves”

By |2022-02-11T08:26:02-06:00January 15th, 2019|Categories: "On the Shoals" by James Matthew Wilson|

I stood atop Slane Hill Where Patrick’s fire burned And chapel floors now fill With cold rain.  Each cracked grave About has risen with The dead.  And tourists, turned On knotted, brazen lists Of all the “weak or brave,” In any case, those lost Beneath the winning miens Of history.  The cost Of burial is [...]

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