Two poems from Naoise Gale’s first full collection, IMPLODE EXPLODE, published by Beir Bua Press on 2 October 2022.
Fred and Dorothy
he came back starved and scarred
and she loved him.
he bought sewing machines and
pork chops and snowstorms,
shielded try-hards and sickly kids
between the winds
and she loved him.
he nursed a dent by his knee
and kissed her quiet bones to sleep
and sang the asthma off her lungs
until morning ached
in the cold breeze
and she loved him.
he journeyed with mars bars
and gentleness,
rinsed the ghosts
from the walls
and she loved him.
he whispered yules
into existence and rained
in the garden
until it was all
a single shoot sprouting
from a damp patch
and she loved him.
he swallowed his trauma
like gum
like mushrooms
like Jesus thorns
and brighter and stronger
than anything holy
she loved him.
he upset a ward and
forgot her smell,
then held her in his arms
and held her in his arms
and held her in his arms
and she loved him.
yes –
he loved her regardless
and she loved him.
Dorothy and Fred
she lasted a war in the orphanage
and he loved her.
she learned cruelty from nuns
with truncheons in their habits,
tight-roped down bedsheets
with strong fists and thick glasses
and he loved her.
she grew moss in her chest
where infections never died,
and she spirited him to Norfolk
when life lost its throat
shadows cursed
and he loved her.
she birthed a home of potatoes
and maids of honour
and cans of Sunday pop,
slung nicknames around the garden
and he loved her.
she scribbled fresh memories
over old scars and skin,
butterfly-kissed
spring rain teasing dahlias
like sudden gold
in the orchard
and he loved her.
she swallowed her trauma
like wallpaper-paste
like rose petals
like coerced prayers
and brighter and stronger
than anything holy
he loved her.
she
sensed wolves, missed him
then held him in her arms
and held him in her arms
and held him in her arms
and he loved her.
yes –
she loved him regardless
and he loved her.
………………………………………………..
Wish
I would like to lock the doors to my
lungs and breathe out all my smoke
in one shadowy breath, I would like
white roses and tramadol to numb
the garrotting, I would like to lie
coffin-ready next to your grave with
my eyes on the sun and nothing
passing above me, I would like
lanugo and ivy to overrun this
wretched body, I would like to press
my hips into one thin pill, illegal-
white, I would like to hold your
hand and say it is okay, okay, okay:
we are all broken keys.
