Poem by Michael Naghten Shanks (Ireland) Published in The Ofi Press issue 42
| WHEN THE BLACK DOG FEASTS
Each night I lay myself to sleep but find my mind awake each hour. Always it is the black dog’s feast.
I never hear its four-pawed creep but feeling its presence cower each night I lay myself to sleep.
All day I find I am tired, weak, lacking energy and power. Always it is the black dog’s feast.
So hounded by the unseen beast I reach out but know you aren’t there. Each night I lay myself to sleep.
I tell myself to count the sheep to try invoke a new nightmare— always it is the black dog’s feast.
Often I think the climb’s too steep so endlessly I tend to stare each night I lay myself to sleep. Always it is the black dog’s feast |
Michael Naghten Shanks lives in Dublin, Ireland. His writing has featured in various publications, including Gorse, 3:AM, The Quietus and elsewhere. In 2015 he will read as part of the New Writers’ Salon during Listowel Writers’ Week and also as part of the Poetry Ireland Introductions Series during the International Literature Festival Dublin. He is editor of The Bohemyth.
Image: "Night at the Dog Park 2" by DevonTT.