Requiem
by Niall McGrath
Queasiness, dizziness, a shuddering,
falling like a drunkard, before rubble
comes down, dust in throat and nose, then the ache
and realisation bones are broken,
skin gashed raw, bleeding.
Being carried through screams from the trouble,
a collar being placed around my neck,
thinking she’ll wonder where I’ve been taken.
Somewhere nearby in a car young recruits
marvel at what they’ve done as ambulances
and hearses take us to morgue or Acute,
no one has time to ponder callousness
when, in different pubs they crow different songs
that mean the same: my country right or wrong.Niall McGrath is a twice Pushcart Prize nominated writer in the 2020s, most recently for 2026, from County Antrim, N Ireland. He has had work in Tears In The Fence, The South Carolina Review, Ashville Poetry Review, Poetry Scotland, French Literary Review, Antigonish Review, Irish Times, Poetry Ireland Review, The Stinging Fly, Poetry Scotland, New Statesman and Quadrant (Australia) among other journals. He is Assistant Editor of Northern Ireland’s premier journal of the arts and culture, Fortnight. Recent selections include oral tradition (Alien Buddha, USA, 2024) and Shed (Lapwing, UK, 2021).
