The Ministry For Lonely Deaths by Mick Corrigan

Memories boil out like a murder of crows

as the men from the ministry break down your door,

to see the grim beauty of brokenness laid bare,

the skin you shed before leaving by the window, lonely in its ragged chair,

your terminal breath a tiny wren, panic fluttering against the glass.

Worldly possessions as unreliable witness,

perjuring themselves on a stack of Argos catalogues,

angry words caught in the carpet, tacky, irredeemable.

Sun furnaced sand from Rub-Al-Khali, groaning where it meets the night,

salt water from a stormy sea, still raging in a shallow cup,

a black hole conscience sucking light from the room

like rum through a straw or coke through a rollie,

the last sigh from your parted lips

wallpaper spattered, with all the other expulsions of air.

Mick Corrigans’ debut collection, “Deep Fried Unicorn”, was released in to the wild in early 2015 by Rebel Poetry, Ireland. His poem “Snowbound” has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize 2018 by San Pedro Review, USA, his poem “If Harry Clarke made a stained-glass window for the Magdalene Women” has been nominated for a Forward Poetry Prize 2018 by Poetry Bus 7, Ireland. He spends his time as though he has an endless supply of it, between Ireland and the island of Crete. He plans to do wild and reckless things with his hair before it’s too late.