“The Reading” and “The Back Bedroom” by Sarah O’Connor


The Reading

In the mock parlour room, people come and go.
No one speaks of Michaelangelo.
The words are thin and the wit is dull.
Arrogance saturates the air. No lull.
The Liffey water turns green, olive, matt black.
The lights upon it are buttered mosaic, forth and back.
The moment of grace is brief and it is bright.
It is sign-posted by no hot spotlight.
I want to drum heels, point and shout:
Talent is here; talent is out.

The Back Bedroom

It lurks lonely, like a figurine
It smells stuffy, like a chintz quilt
The wardrobe full.
Its faded finery, guests long gone
Its pillows thin and soft, clean like powdered snow
Its pincushion, still spikily sharp
Its duckling wallpaper, growing yellowed
The window fogged.
It smells of old, like winter silt
It sings of old, inexorable guilt
The door closed.
The Reading and The Back Bedroom are © Sarah O’Connor

img_4751Sarah O’Connor is originally from Tipperary. She studied in UCC and Boston College, and she now lives in Dublin. She previously worked in publishing and now works in politics. She is 34. She is working on her first novel and on a collection of poetry. She has been published by Wordlegs and The Weary Blues.
Sarah O’Connor blogs at The Ghost Station & tweets at @theghoststation.
Poemín and other Poems by Sarah O’Connor


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