A butcher and sausage

an eye-

popping drunk

and the fury

of not being

able to reach

out his rage past the circular

width of his arms.

he was on

capel st

looking at time-

having people,

these travelling

tourists

and drunks.

could shake

like a badly

pressured

central heating

system,

could imagine

his hands reaching

into the world

like a butcher

and sausage-meat.

a hangover feels better

when you're able

to cry or

to vomit. rage feels – no –

the world

can collide

with your hands. anger

anaesthetic; a feeling

you cannot now feel.

look: these fucking –

these fucking –

these fucking –

these fucking –

these fucking –

D.S. Maolalai

ABOUT THE POET:

DS Maolalai has been described by one editor as "a cosmopolitan poet" and another as "prolific, bordering on incontinent". His work has been nominated fourteen times for BOTN, eleven for the Pushcart and once for the Forward Prize, and released in three collections; "Love is Breaking Plates in the Garden" (Encircle Press, 2016), "Sad Havoc Among the Birds" (Turas Press, 2019) and “Noble Rot” (Turas Press, 2022).