Nina O’Donovan is a twenty year old poet from Limerick City. She is regularly involved with local writing groups such as the MIC Writers Society and Stanzas: An Evening of Words. Her work has previously been published in the Stanzas Year One and Two Anthologies, The Limerick Magazine, and the LGBT anthology It’s a Queer City All the Same. When she is not writing, she can probably be found discussing queer theory and existentialism in local cafes.
Stanzas December event takes place in Hook & Ladder, Sarsfield Street on 8th December from 6pm, and will be the All Ireland Slam Finals. Eight Poets who won their regional qualifiers will compete for the title of this year’s Slam Winners. Also on the night is the official launch of Solstice Sounds Volume ii – a cd of poetry, music and experimental sounds.
Stanzas returns proper on January 20th, once more in the Hook & Ladder from 7pm. The theme for the month is ‘Found’ so to see your work in print email poetry, prose or images to [email protected] Please note: Images must be High Contrast Black and White. Prose must be under 600 words in length.
Tiny planet mercury is shrinking fast
By Nina O’Donovan
darling, when I think of you I think of morning;
early, bright grey morning, clean and thin as the rim of a cup.
I’ve developed a bad habit of leaning towards you. did you know:
that every seven years every cell in the human body regenerates.
we are almost new people. I have almost never met you.
when it rains like this, I think of all the space between us.
did you know: aeoliscus strigatus, the razorfish,
hangs mid water in clean bright lines like christmas lights?
it hides in the gaps between a sea urchin’s spines.
it can live beside its danger and survive.
sometimes I re-read your messages, after you fall asleep,
as if there’s anything else to be said. did you know:
the colour of the heart wasn’t always red —like blood, the bull,
like quick decisions; but green like the safety of nature, harmony, go.
like the little green dot that speaks for you.
darling, mercury is shrinking faster than we thought;
did you know: the surface has crushed itself, wrinkled like a river delta.
it’s lost seven kilometres of what it had: as it cools it contracts,
liquid iron core turns solid as the lump in my throat.
no speaking is left in me.
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