Mia Gallagher: 4 Poems from “The Irish Catullus”

186

Catullus

 CXI

Here, Auffilena!
(oh, baby, oh)
                Ya seem like such a
        Nice
Mot
            All standin by yer man, eh?
            The family sort;
            no gammy
            slapper
You.

Yo.
Wait, Auffilena –
No offence meant
but…
                Since when do
        Nice
Mots
play
hide the salami
            with their daddies

                                                               and
                           mammy
(oh, baby, oh)        
                                baby brothers in prammies?

Blow, baby, blow,
back to yer master.
Nice be fucked;
better a brasser.

 

CXII

So, Naso
What’s the story?
Flyin solo?
    Mad.
    Had
           you
for wan a the
    lads.
        The obligin kind;
        a good skin;
        ya can rely on him,
        all…
          palsy-walsy.
Oh…
Do yer
    buddies
not like it when ya
    Head
    Down
    Town
          trousers
Round
yer heels?
(quick feel)
Up the …    
Brenda!

Pathetic baloney.
Balletic palone.
Go…
will ya,
ya steamin bender.

CXIII

See her, Cinna?
    Maecilia.

Face like a dog’s dinner
but –

Back in the day…
Man. She was fine
Well-stacked.
Liked it both ways, baby,
                    rear and
front.
                Gaggin for a lashin,
        Ibiza-tats a-flashin,
no lack
        a crack
      There.

    Now Pompey’s back
                and the bitch is outta fashion,
forsakin the hunt
sacrificin the passion
gone Welfare cheque-cashin
rearin that three-pack a
                           runts.

Busy busy busy.
Stinkin nappies
                   Wailin brats
        Two timin
cunt.

 

CXIV

Watch him roarin up the track –
Mr Flash!
Big Dick
(jammy prick)
with his
                         fourwheel drivin
                         high rankin
                         brand spanking
                         country gaff in
                                                  Firmum,
                                                  the dumb
                                               wank.

Rich, me hole.
It all belongs the bank
and poor Knob-end’s
no better in the sack.

Face facts.
Credit’s maxed.
Roar, Cock, roar, and
fire yer useless blanks.

Published in The Irish Catullus edited by Ronan Sheehan A&A Farmar, 2010: Dublin

SHARE
Previous articleSean Hardie – A Place for Everything, Everything in its Place
Next articleTHE ITALO IRISH LITERATURE EXCHANGE 2014
Mia Gallagher’s short fiction has been published in Ireland, the UK and US and anthologised by Fish and The Stinging Fly. Her short story collection You First won the START Short Fiction award (2005) and she was also shortlisted for Hennessy (1991), Fish (2004) and Trevor/ Bowen (2011) Awards. Her debut novel HellFire (Penguin Ireland, 2006) was widely acclaimed and won the Irish Tatler Literature Award (2007). Extracts from her second novel have been published in Literary Imagination (Oxford University Press, 2012), Spolia (New York, 2013) and Colony (Dublin, 2014). Her short story Quasimodo, illustrated with drawings by Kirsten Stolle, was published as a limited edition chapbook by Spolia (New York, 2013). Mia has received several Bursaries for Literature from the Arts Council of Ireland and was writer-in-residence with IADT/dlr Arts Office (2009-2010). Her translations of Catullus’ verses originally appeared in The Irish Catullus (edited by Ronan Sheehan, Farmar, Dublin: 2010). Photograph by Robbie Fry