A Ticket To Trilce (excerpt) - MTC Cronin
A Ticket To Trilce (excerpt).
Boyle had jotted down somewhere that the day always begins elsewhere.
Cronin writes rapidly of strangling justice because there is an everyday
that never passes beyond the sheeps' noses. Who's the fairest? The white
flocks remain unidentifiable, like blossoms that huddle to the tree for fear
of a wind that empties like distance into their open throats.
Three times it was Wednesday as Wednesday lingers in the faithful old week.
The name begins to spell itself backwards in search of a mate, the old
pallordromes no longer useful as guides in such a world,
a world of zombies with mollusclike mouths,
a world invented for the pure use of hope.
My unborn son bothers me again.
He is aging me and remaining stationary.
When I look deeply into the space he might occupy
I observe all the pages that have been turned upside-down.
There a citizen reads the impossible banning of reality.
Before us, suddenly, takes place the battle of the dimples.
A series of Buddhas comes bearing
the amberella chutney
while I crawl to the cupboard of flexible possession
and slip through
MTC Cronin has twice been runner-up in the James Joyce Foundation's Suspended Sentence Award, a runner-up in the Stand International PoetryCompetition, and won the Gwen Harwood Memorial Poetry Prize. Her poetry, short-stories and reviews have been published internationally. Her fourteen books include the highly-acclaimed 'My Lover's Back' and '