Buying a Car
I take a friend with me;
he knows more about them
than I do. I just
know the basics –
how to drive one,
I guess, and that’s it.
and this is the first time
I’ve bought one
on purpose; mostly
they come to me –
a friend of a friend
lost his license and no
longer needs it –
someone needs money –
someone moving
abroad. I walk through
the yard, nervous as birds
in thick bramble.
they sit in long rows,
bright and colourful;
broken shells
on a rock
on a beach.
.
Visiting Dingle.
in the morning the house
was asleep as a basket of dogs.
chrysty had elbowed me,
told me I was moving –
told me in her sleep
to roll over. I rolled.
I had thought
I was sleeping ok,
though perhaps I was still
just drunker than she was
and hadn’t noticed
my dreams
in loud grief
and big letters.
three hours later
I took clothes from the bag;
showered
and dressed in the bathroom. I went downstairs,
had a coffee
and opened the garden door. there had been a light rain
but now the air was clear,
sea settled
like a surface on soup.
I put on my coat and went outside.
walked for a while;
bought sausages, bacon and eggs.
© DS Maolalai
DS Maolalai has been nominated nine times for Best of the Net and five times 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).
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