Knocking on Purgatory's Door
by Patricia Walsh
A logical heaven, paying the last penny,
Tried through fire, walking in narrow streets,
Maturing from effort, various circles permitting
The concerned transported in comfort zones.
Reading turgid diaries, leaving the home alone
The deed not done, successful to requirements
Passing through taught for a tightened fee
Loving to a fault, afterwards, no conclusion.
Never dreaming of assault, reading into supposition
Paying markets for alcohol passing through
Working the slave markets no challenge
The innocent always suffering as a reward.
Squeaking to fit, in auspices of a phone
Swallowing wild creatures in part, the new normal
The covert slipping away, the luxury barricaded
Computing the minutae to the best of ability.
Sipping on average food, telling everything
Loved within means not an excuse anymore
Forcing the hard on a serial aberration
Dearly beloved, taking climaxes seriously.
Not supported on this device, loyality scarred
Qualified for troubled in the ensuing din
Less trouble than worth, lighting from a fire
Basking lovingly in the responsible lifetime.
Patricia Walsh was born in the parish of Burnfort, Co Cork,and educated at University College Cork, She has published across Ireland the UK and the US. She tweets at @eurynonymous