Paraic O'Donnell | Writer. Lives in a very small way.

Poetry

  • Dragons

    Dragons

      By midsummer, her nights are livid. She hears, now as then, the water speak in…

  • Coma

      By now, he was curled up inside himself, a cat that crept somehow atop an…

  • Øresund

      At dawn, they snap the curtains back, disclose your uneluded fate; the view, the patient…

  • Machine Time

      Well, we’d say, it’s just machine time, talking of some task we’d set them, the…

  • Lines

      Having a small garden, we strung two lines close, from one corner to its near…

  • Bird Shadow

    Taking an age to dredge keys from silted pockets, something stilled you at the car door–…