RARE RIB-EYE
  
 If I hadn’t turned the key in the ignition
 like you ordered me to, before we married
 I wouldn’t be where I am now 
 and you wouldn’t be where you are either.
 I’d never have learned to drive
 never have sat outside the bank,
 engine running, waiting
  
 for you to finish work.
 I’d never have seen you get into her
 yellow Toyota Yaris.
 I’d have been at home, reading your text,
 have to stay late don’t wait up,
 while watching Corrie.
  
 I’d never have seen her yellow shoe box
 bounce up and down in the carpark. 
 She, riding you as if you were a stallion.
 I’d never have smashed that Yaris’s grin,
 head-on. No, I’d have been in the kitchen, 
 simmering a blue-cheese sauce
 to pour over your rare rib-eye steak.
 
  
 BLACK KNIGHT

 My bed’s mahogany legs stand on a Nepalese carpet.
 I luxuriate in lying naked on silk sheets.
 Brocade curtains fail to block street car horns
 and scraping heels on pavements.
 Head lice scratch my scalp debating today’s events.
 I close my eyes and carpet flies. 
 It shakes as we encounter turbulence.
 A black knight astride a grey mare lands
 beside me with a picnic basket of caviar and champagne.
 He says he still jostles and uses his lance.
 I stoke it, say I miss him. We kiss.
 Convulsions wake me. Aftershave lingers in the air.
 The curtains waltz in the morning breeze.
 How much longer will I meet him in my dreams?
 
  
 HOPE
  
 is mouse peeking out of hole 
 one eye on sliver of grated cheese
 lying on kitchen tiles
 other on sleeping Labrador 
 beside patio door.
  
 Hope is woman hunched over hob
 watching two duck breasts
 blacken on frying pan
 stirs simmering orange sauce
 hears tick of kitchen clock.
  
 Hope is man, gulping one last pint
 (as barman calls closing time)
 car keys lodged in jeans pocket
 forgoes takeaway curry chips
 drives home via bog road.
  
 Hope is dog, raising eye-lid
 listening for scurrying of  rodent feet
 dreaming of fresh mouse meat
 or perhaps, orange-drenched breasts 
 found later in food-waste bin.
   

Anne Walsh Donnelly lives in the west of Ireland.  Her work has appeared in many publications. She was nominated for the Hennessy Literary Award for emerging poetry and selected for Poetry Ireland Introductions in 2019. Her poetry chapbook, “The Woman With An Owl Tattoo” was published in May 2019 by Fly On The Wall Poetry Press. Her debut short story collection, “Demise of the Undertaker’s Wife” will be published by Blue Nib in September 2019. To find out more about Anne or to purchase her books go to: annewalshdonnelly.com