Kevin Graham

'Letter Home' and 'Storm'

Kevin Graham

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Letter Home

This is yours to understand: the quiet night

building in your head as you drop from sight

into the grassy bowl between coast road

and the raised hives of sand

twisting over marram. A hushed snickering

runs its fingers through your brain

as you stare out over the crushing white foam,

an exile coming to terms with the gloam

that catches you off guard, illuminating the fact

that there’s a razor hidden in your pocket,

how easily it could be used to ward away

the ghost of selfhood – somehow say

everything you ever wanted to without

a word to anyone you ever cared about.


after Robin Robertson

Rain nailing its speed

to the roof. The air hissing,

pressed against the glass

the way a man might

consume his own reflection.

Every few seconds

a silver rod gleaming

like a fish being speared

in the current. Loud static

in the skies, electricity

in the dark. Old ghosts

prising open cracks of fire,

breaking the fourth wall.

The world is a bowl

of warring weather.

Almost touchable, a tongue

of lightning forks its root

from the burning mire.

Dogs run like demons

across flooding fields

where shards of light

flash quick as pain.

Kevin Graham

Kevin Graham's recent poems have appeared AgendaPoetry Ireland Review, Oxford Poetry, The Stinging Fly and othersHe was shortlisted for a 2014 Henessey Literary Award and is working towards his first collection.