D.S. Maolalai

Around us, life

buses go by
filled with light
and no people. taxis
jockey passengers
like pigeons and pieces
of bread. around us, life
attempts in its way
to continue; a clock
in a kitchen
with no hands
but a battery, knowing the time
and not telling it.

Do you know anyone who wants to make some money

he was a salesman
or something,
and something
of a charlatan, but he was
of good stock, moneyed
south dublin,
muscle gone to fat
in the way of successful
people, and a voice
which sounded
quite clear
when you heard it,
like radio. it

was irritating. they
were our neighbours,
but I hated
drinking with him.
we’d sit on the patio
between our apartments
drinking wine and eating
fish dinners,
watching our dogs.
flies overhead,
not buzzing, but moving
with the dripping softness
of fruit flies in sunset,
and motion activated
listen – he said –

I have this opportunity.
I know you’re not interested –
don’t look at me like that –
but I have this
opportunity. it’s going
to be good – it’s this thing
online with dentistry – just listen
for once, just listen:
do you know anyone
who wants to make
some money?

D.S. Maolalai has been nominated eight times for Best of the Net and three times for the Pushcart Prize. His poetry has been released in two collections, Love is Breaking Plates in the Garden (Encircle Press, 2016) and Sad Havoc Among the Birds (Turas Press, 2019).