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Best of Irish Poetry 2009
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FRANK GOLDEN

 

 

Frank Golden Poem in Southword Journal 18

 

Frank Golden was born in Dublin and has been living in the Burren for over twenty years. His latest poetry collection In Daily Accord was published in 2008 by Salmon Publishing. His other poetry collections include The Interior Act (Salmon), In Partial Settlement (Wiffle Press), On Route To Leameneh (Raven Arts), and his novel The Two Women Of Aganatz (Wolfhound Press). He has worked on TV and film projects and has had a number of solo exhibitions of his paintings, the most recent being Living Through Air (2009) at the Courthouse Gallery. He has received a number of awards including Film &Video Award (Arts Council), Bursary in Literature (Arts Council), and Development Funding (Film Board).

 

 

 

 

 

Rectification

 

1

How many curlers for her dead hair

How much Chanel for her dead lobes

How much lipstick for her dead lips

 

How deep to sever the vein she said she wanted cut

 

How to mend her

How to hold her

How to leave her

 

How to remember her bones

 

How it ends

How her cold skin softens

How shallow oblivion

 

 

2

Not to have collected her nail parings

Not to have watched less sport

Not to have explained the rules of Fame and Fortune or Dancing on Ice

Not to have boiled the ham more slowly

Not to have made more of an effort

In ways that might have glossed our final time

 

3

We went that afternoon on her final Sunday drive

Down Griffith Avenue,

The wind cherry-blossom thick

The sun ideal

Along by Clontarf

The new apartments noted

And over the wooden bridge

Same sound as in the sixties

When we clitter-clattered over it in our yellow VW

She remarked on the birds

On the clarity of Howth Head in the driven wind

On the clouds like a froth of egg white frittering

 

We parked where we had parked a generation ago

The sea pulled back

The sand skittering south.

I left her in the car and walked forward in front of her

Over the crenellated ebb sand and walked back to her

As I had always walked back to her

 

We were made for each other

Made for the care of each other

In ways we could not have predicted

 

“We’ll head back now,” I said, “unless you’d like to go further”

But she had gone far enough

There was nothing more she needed to see

 

On our way back to the bridge

She noted a coastal house

“I never remember that being there” she said

But it had always been there as long as I could remember

Just as she will always be there

As long as I remember

How many curlers

How much Chanel

How much lipstick

How her cold skin softened

How it ended

How shallow oblivion

 

©2010 Frank Golden

 

 

Author Links

 

Frank Golden reading at the White House in Limerick (YouTube)

Golden at Salmon Poetry

Golden at the Courthouse Gallery

 

 

 

 

 

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Southword 6 Southword No 7 Southword No 8 Southword No 9 Southword No 10 Southword 11 southword 12 Southword No 14 Southword No 15