valencia orange tree

Valencia oranges.

 

you’re in valencia

(that’s in spain,

not kerry)

just walking

to try some new streets.

you like cities

better than the countryside

but you just want to

go walking here,

you’re not here to see

castles

or any museums.

 

in this a street.

there is traffic.

the cars

are older

than you’re used to,

burping up a smog

which burns

in the fine

hot air.

on the roadside

the trees

are all oranges,

good and ripe

as if the sky

were sprouting suns this summer.

 

you reach up,

take one,

pull

and bite in.

it’s so acid

it stings you.

your lips blister. the city

is still a city

and this fruit

inhales nothing but poison

every day.

it doesn’t have to conform

to your romantic

notions

of a stroll

on holiday.

 

and these people walking with you?

they’re going to work,

chief.

would you eat blackberries

you picked

on the naas road?

 


White and whipping shine.

 

the snow came down

like a dog over sand dunes,

surprising

but not unwelcome at first,

not until

it won’t go away

and ruins your picnic.

it was dublin – we

are not equipped for this weather.

roads closed down

and flights were canceled.

the streets

looked like candy

and the top of a christmas cake,

but this was springtime – lambs

were coming out of sheep,

more white

to add

to the blasted white and whipping shine.

I was fresh back from canada

and it was no novelty to me.

leaving the snow

and coming

to more snow

in a city without snowplows. made me appreciate

toronto,

I can tell you that.

the snow

came down,

cold hard as tabletops,

wet wind rising

and sending the trees to infancy.

as the temperature plunged

the govt issued an official warning:

NOBODY TO BE OUTSIDE

BETWEEN THE HOURS OF 1500 AND 0900

ALL BUSINESSES CLOSED.

the bars did a roaring trade –

nobody could drive

anyway

and there was something outside

to be talked about.

 

 


DS Maolalai recently returned to Ireland after four years away, now spending his days working maintenance dispatch for a bank and his nights looking out the window and wishing he had a view. His first collection, Love is Breaking Plates in the Garden, was published in 2016 by the Encircle Press. He has twice been nominated for the Pushcart Prize.