3 poems by Moira Walsh
- Editor
- May 10, 2022
- 1 min read
Horse
Face the animal, you say
No more words now: demonstration
Almost white against red sand
like this
Hello skull, old tool
(Georgia on my mind)
No more eyes, no more eyelids
jaw dropped
Ear bones one night
clattered in the waking cold
Mice could hear elaborate chatter
almost cheerful
Small hammer, tiny anvil
miniature stirrup
Who was warmed by your fur?
Did they wear or eat it?
Once a windborne wonder
now tick-tock picked clean
NOTE: This poem was sparked by Jean Follain’s “Face the Animal”, translated from the French by Heather McHugh.
Passport
for W. S.
A line, entering watermind
Your unguarded look looking at me
Your unguarded arms arming around me
My lost self, losing itself—
losing all fear of losing
A swift reed, birch, or willow—
riverside, quick to dance, shape shifting
Citizen of imagination
Erogenuity
Earthly body, celestial body.
Body of water, body of work.
Body politic, body of argument.
Receptive body seeking body,
body dweller. We meet
through bodies. Our selves
infinitely stranger
and stronger
than bodies.
___________
Moira Walsh makes her home in southern Germany and translates for a living. In 2021, she was the inaugural Anne-Marie Oomen Fellow at Poetry Forge, a Thomas Lux Scholar at the Palm Beach Poetry Festival, and a finalist for the Joy Harjo Poetry Prize. Moira has no university degree.
very mush liked, but shouldn't it be titled erosgenuity. anyways ...
my parentage
i'll double check their birth dates,
but for now
homeward in this frozen cold
in my amniotic highlander
i insist on imagine to myself,
o maybe at a conference once
did mr older patrick kavanagh
of irish creed and irish ricks besides
lay his peat fingers
on ms anne's UNBELIEVABLE thigh
so thus began
a evening's authorhood,
each wrote a rhyming line
after the other, O THE COLD ERECT MOON
a sweet drunk limerick
THAT I WAS SPRANG
the following winter,
a laughter manner of speaking
a speaked manner of laughter ...
so's i put my embryology
notion more and more in front of me,
i'll child…