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Cathal McGuigan
Dungiven native Cathal, 21, has recently finished his English and Philosophy degree at Queen's.
Having always been a insatiable reader, he studied creative writing modules at university and has tried his hand at poetry, prose and drama.
He is now entering writing competitions and attempting to be published to see if his work is up to scratch.
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The Second Hand by
Cathal McGuigan
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It's not your bed til you haven't slept in it.
I can't watch a TV that's never been slapped or punched
for something that wasn't its fault.
Can't break bread with knives and plates that hide in cabinets
and have a nice day out once a year.
I can't mark my book place with anything less than an empty blister pack,
or the second hand from the broken grandfather clock.
Why buy books new? From orderly, slick, book shops?
When I could have scrawled phone numbers and dedications, extra, for free,
To Freddie, Love Gran, Christmas 1973.
I couldn't bear a new book. Its perfection. Its No-oneness.
Sit me down on your tatty sofa.
Give me coffee in an old family mug.
Pick me up in a used car, with a radio that responds only to you.
I'll use the house key that I alone can work, because there's a trick to it.
Μύ
Μύ
Μύ |
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