Thursday, 17 January 2019


by Irene Cunningham

Is the carpet red enough, warm as toast?
Let me take your shoes, rest and be thankful
the warring is over, the country lies
at your feet...a nice bowl of rebel soup
will settle your stomach. The bread is free
of every irritant so don’t worry,
be happy. You’ve had a hard time of it
with all that waiting, manipulating –
it must be worth it. Wait, I’ll use my hair
to dry your feet; I heard it was the biz
in the past, we could bring it back in praise
of peace. Of course things will be difficult
with all the separating, collating
but it’s good to finally know your place.

* * * * *

Irene Cunningham’s recent publications: In Between Hangovers, Picaroon, South Bank Poetry, I am not a Silent Poet, Former Cactus, Riggwelter, The Lake, Shoreline of Infinity, Blue Nib. She thinks about the outside world but isn’t often there. One of her poems published this year has been nominated for The Pushcart Prize. Her website is

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