Alvy Carragher


we were loud as fireworks outside,
huddling our dreams, this time,
we’d be everything, go anywhere

we wouldn’t let our hearts be eaten,
still bloody, still raw, from the year before,
wouldn’t reel through Temple Bar in blistering heels,
smuggle wine bottles in fur coats to house parties,
drink on the night-link or Dublin bus,
never so tacky as our Ribena-filled bottles

there’d be no days spent mending ourselves in
the rain of Dun Laoghaire, out on the pier shivering,
how stupid to think rain could fix anything,
no days dredging through charity shops for steals,
or quick cups of tea that spanned hours of moaning
about the same friends kissing the wrong people

this year would be different, I’m sure we laughed,
as we pitched forward and with hands too big
for our damned hearts, thought we’d grab it all

now, we sit with these spaces between us,
the closest we get, my head turned in your direction,
on the edge of the pier, slanting rain,
arms outstretched, finding all things,
however exciting, lead to the same place



Alvy‘s first collection is forthcoming with Salmon Poetry (2016). An accidental Slam Poet, she performs poetry at lots of festivals and events, occasionally they let her on national radio. A Pushcart nominee, her poems have been listed for many prizes. Her award winning blog With All the Finesse of a Badger has been archived by the national library.