Kenneth Hickey's poem "Metro"

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Kenneth Hickey was born in 1975 in Cobh, Co. Cork Ireland. He served in the Irish Naval Service between 1993 and 2000. His poetry and prose has been published in various literary journals in Ireland, the UK and the United States including Southword, Crannoig, THE SHOp, A New Ulster, Aesthetica Magazine and The Great American Poetry show. His writing for theatre has been performed in Ireland, the UK, New York and Paris. 

He has won the Eamon Keane Full Length Play Award as well as being shortlisted for The PJ O’Connor Award and the Tony Doyle Bursary. 

His work in film has been screened at the Cork and Foyle Film Festivals. He holds a BA and MA in English Literature both from University College Cork. 

His debut collection ‘The Unicycle Paradox’ was published by Revival Press in November 2021. He still resides in Cork.



Metro


Watching strangers

kiss on the platform

Of Odeon Metro

Each street, each corner

Of that fabled city,

named for a lovelorn Trojan, 

as he imagined it was

in his dream. 

Surprised by joy.

Sweet unprecedented joy.

Before descending in the soft summer sun

Through the Luxembourg Gardens

Her perfume mixed 

with the scent of Iceland Poppy,

Her arm slipped forcefully around his scarred stomach,

Her small lips at his neck.

Standing crucified with longing,

Almost a resurrection.

His lost mistakes teach him much.

Refusing the loneliness back.

She had a small flat in the Arab quarter

Married a man of Constantinople.

Here will be an end.

Again.


The second day

Meeting at the Auld Alliance

Rue François Miron

she arrived with friends

unknown, unknowing,

talking politely while

drifted into corrosive currents

lashed to the mast

to hear her beautiful song.

No wax required. 

Fled to the safety of deserted streets

Past curfew

An aria in his ear 

Forced sleepless to sleep 

in the Metro St. Paul doorway,

Converted on the road to the east

Fallen from a horse 

Fitful dreams

Stealing his soul

leaving broken, misshapen, mutated days. 

Decapitated in the dust.


Another failure. Another view.

Though after in hours

Somehow still before you


© 2022 Kenneth Hickey

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