Inspire yourself, a dog’s bite of a sentence,
that serves to magic the doorways shut,
a catalogue of errors serving purpose.
Nobody want the fight the good fight anymore,
sated with staring into a boxed machine,
for hours on end, entertained somewhat.
Wait for the ships to come in. It is only then
you will find if the cat is still alive
uncertainty poisons you otherwise.
God did create all manner of things,
a rotten hierarchy to go and multiply,
male intervention reigning supreme.
Plagiarise beauty, a sawn-off manifesto,
that aims to chill sorrow skin-deep
this is our world, a wreckage binding.
The break of the day betrays its promise.
A gallery of small things, a keepsake
for what it is worth, a decree of a sample
Oxygen for your enemies is paramount
enough to burn all semblances of poison
natural selection garrottes your greed
Sleep while you can, a glorious failure
Rotting secretly, a dying inbred
trying to communicate a dire need.
Bio: Patricia was born and raised in the small parish of Mourneabbey, Mallow, County Cork, Republic of Ireland. Her previous publications include a book of poetry, titled: Continuity Errors, and a novel, The Quest for Lost Eire, which was published in 2014. She has also been published in a number of journals.