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Robert McDermott was born in Dublin in 1973 where he lives and works. He has been writing poetry for about four years and has been published in magazines such as Coffeehouse and Orbis and the e-zines Subtletea, Ancient Heart and Poetry Bay.

Last Words

My Grandparent's house
is being emptied,
pared down,

plucked and trussed-

measured and made
ready
to sell by real estate men
in
crisp suits.

I have held vigil
awaiting
'for sale' signs to rise-

and every night I spend
ten
minutes
ear-pressed to the walls
listening for last words

Big Hippo Laughs

He doesn't care,
laughs like a hippo,
eyes the stucco wall
and its old man face,
old man with creaked back,
hobbling.

He just laughs,
big hippo laughs, rolled
belly in the Zaire,
Zambezi,
brown mud sludge,
a stack of dead beasts
bloated in the thick heat,

one vulture dips its
head too deep
and explodes.


Copyright © 2007 Robert McDermott