Dara Clear

Pannonia Girls

Pannonia Girls Eyes pools of wonder, glittering intelligence, sparkling mischief. Bodies shaped by pride, confidence and interest. Dimples and grins of gaiety and penny-dropping knowing. In the wooded space they have been given leave to grow, to be wrong, to be curious. Castles and kingdoms, and queendoms, made in dollhouses. The lash, the whip and

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We have contact

 “Are we living in end times? … Either way, it is hard not to feel that we are being shown a glimpse of a future to which we should expect to become accustomed. And when the world around you is physically changing, it is almost impossible for your perspective not to change with it… It

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Witchman

a poem from quite a few years ago, inspired by the sight of an aged driver advancing carefully along a motorway, a long, irate tailback in his wake Witchman Witchman, wrapped around leather, staring through glass, blasted eyes, bloodshot translucent skin. Fingers like knots of gristle and rock, stuck in time, modernity raging at his

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Open

I love you as certain dark things are to be loved, in secret, between the shadow and the soul. Pablo Neruda It’s Halloween! Feeling spooky? Feeling scared? Looking over your shoulder? Cowering in the dark? Dressing up or dressing down? We have always celebrated Halloween here in Ireland and I have liked the associated festivities

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On your marks

I had hoped not to end up writing about the pandemic, but like the damn thing itself, it has become unavoidable. Apart from those whose occupations entail meeting the Coronavirus head on, life is being lived in low gear and in a minor key. We are in a permanent state of crouch, feeling the weight

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