POEM James Conor Patterson

NWR Issue 108


After the bush plane drops
its delivery in the afternoon’s flat-light,
you’ll spend the next four hours
rolling fuel cargo across the runway
to the outhouse furnace, and decanting it
gallon by gallon – like red wine at Cana –
using a screwdriver, mallet, plastic funnel,
cork, and oil-stained watering can...

The poetry of James Conor Patterson has been featured in a number of publications, including Cyphers, Poetry Ireland Review, Wordlegs, Magma, The Penny Dreadful, Southword and Abridged. It has also been shortlisted for the Bridport Poetry Prize, the Fool For Poetry Chapbook Competition, and longlisted for the Fish Poetry Prize, as well as having received the 2013 Yeats Emerging Talent Award for poetry.

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previous poem: Pincer
next poem: Pointlessly Handsome Well-Dressed Older Man Sitting at the Bar


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