The House in Leitrim
by DS Maolalai
the wet clay
peeled
with sucking sounds
straight
from the spade. I was eight.
my father dug,
wanting to show
that he could bend the world
to city hands. the house
had been
a long time
unoccupied
before we took it; trees grew in the kitchen
and the plaster walls would crumble
to even my
weak touch.
they’d got it cheap,
my parents,
and intended
eventually
that it would be broken
like a dog
and forced to piss
outside. there were spiders
living in every corner
and a long war
was waged against the mice
and the rabbits on the hill.
as a fire escape
heavy stones
were placed on each windowsill
and the paint was done
to keep the damp out of the woodwork
and seal the place
for visitors.
but bad Irish weather
fell down
and crushed minds
like the top of a the mountain behind us.
it engulfed the place
like frogspawn
clumping on rocks.
pride lost;
I don’t know
the last time
anyone
has bothered to visit.
DS Maolalai has been nominated for Best of the Web and twice for the Pushcart Prize. His first collection, “Love is Breaking Plates in the Garden”, was published in 2016 by the Encircle Press, with “Sad Havoc Among the Birds” forthcoming from Turas Press in 2019.
