New Poetry by Diarmuid ó Maolalaí

My bleeding fingers

I don't know. I must
have caught them somewhere. I was 
distracted, unpacking the car
in the countryside - out here 
anything can be an edge. but I like it, 
even with my bleeding fingers - 

the way water 
breaks in the river 
like gin 
pouring over ice
and the way you can walk out at night
and see more stars 
than anywhere. together
we bring bags
and bottles
to the cabin,
stretch, and take our turns
to piss. I rinse my hand 
with a tap,
fed by wells
and freezing.
westward, the sun
is approaching the mountains
as we try to get a fire on,
and the cats
crawl down walls
to lick honey from my cuts. you told me you knew
of an antiseptic
remedy - I can't believe
you meant honey
and wild cats. 


- Diarmuid ó Maolalaí 2019

DS Maolalai has been nominated for Best of the Web and twice for the Pushcart Prize. His poetry has been released in two collections, "Love is Breaking Plates in the Garden" (Encircle Press, 2016) and "Sad Havoc Among the Birds" (Turas Press, 2019)