:: Article

Three Poems

By Alan Kelly.

The Bell I Hear Now

There is a
bell
tolling
far off
but I
wonder
if it
will mark
a
Transubstantiation
or summon
my executioner.

The Fuck Box

My boy cunt
suckled Joe’s
cock
without sheath
while
the boy I used to be
looked back at our
bodies
bemused
from the mirror
in the
Fuck box.

Respite

grabbed the bulk of a sweetshop
barely able to fit in my back pocket
brought this sweetshop
back through our kitchen window
to the kids all smiley like
an eternity in respite

They hauled it all down
their eyes all stalks
tongue hangin’ in spite
a good thirty seconds
a fuckin’ lifetime in
respite

Lie on the sofabed
listening to people
fuckin’ their veins
fingers wrapped around
my dick
flaccid,
20 seconds in respite

Impartial motherfucker,
kids go nuts,
sit with cheap beer
in respite

10 fuckin’ years,
to the fuckin’ day
in respite
respite
respite.

580e
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Alan Kelly
has contributed to Penny Blood, GCN, Bookslut, Butcherqueers, Pretty Scary, Film Ireland, Sein Und Werden and Shoots and Vines and The Laura Hird Showcase. His fiction has appeared in Dogmatika, Beat the Dust, Gold Dust, Lit up Magazine, Six Sentences, Parasitic, The Bloodied Quill and The Beat.

First published in 3:AM Magazine: Monday, January 5th, 2009.