“I Am Stretched On Your Grave” by Sinead O’Connor


On the day of the battle you said to me, in simple command under goshawk’s convocation: when you get there do not cross.

But I followed the landscape down through an animal’s lingual gesture. Bodily. Without allegiance. Through the last grove’s blackened pine I forged cinder’s undercurrent across the gorge. I lay my hands on the soldier’s ribs and in unison smooth out the jaundice oak leaves where his body lay—as if each impression might circulate bell, book and candle.

The pious grit their teeth—wade through the 17th-century walls behind me—every time I hear any song. And I always say, ‘Sinead would sing that so much better’… It’s a fact.

-Maureen Alsop

imagesMaureen Alsop, Ph.D. is the author of four poetry books: Apparition Wren, Mantic, Later, Knives & Trees, and Mirror Inside Coffin. She presently lives on Magnetic Island in Australia.

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