Irish Pages LTD

Sunday MorningAuthor(s): Adrian FoxSource: Irish Pages, Vol. 2, No. 2, The Earth Issue (Autumn/Winter, 2004), p. 108Published by: Irish Pages LTDStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/30022030 .

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POEM

Adrian Fox

SUNDAY MORNING

Belfast 1970 - a grey sky hung Mucus of tar, the scent of hatred And spent shells' residue.

A woman loved for a moment

By the enemy, cried like a gull Embedded in an oilslick, somewhere Off the coastline of my heart.

The etched guilt of a one-night stand Tied to the lamppost. Some men Passed wrenching traitor, slut, cunt And greenhorn from their throats,

That slithered on the black tar Of her breasts, seeping into The feathers of her heart.

Adrian Fox was born in 1961 and grew up in Ardoyne, Belfast, where his father was a member of the IRA A selection of his poems appears in Poetry Introductions 1 (Lagan Press, 2004) He

now lives in Craigavon, Co Armagh.

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