Corner Boy’s Apprentice

You recall pearls, brittle cold
glass rattle and the paint peel
of a splintered window frame.
Paper globe shades a single bulb
reflected in the darkening pane.
Streetlight halos, orange October fog
and you. You were in the image too.

The same in school, double maths,
history, watching trees dissolve
approaching sleep. That feeling,
back of the Citroën, towels and blankets
covering seats. Suitcases at your feet.
Stay on your side for the eight-hour drive
and rain like a chain-gun barrage.

A rule snaps. Chalk hurled above drowsy heads
to clatter against varnished brick. Fingers trace
the wrong-us that your biro etched. Idleness
was always the occupation of corner-boys.
Now it’s, Oh, the middle distance, that liminal state,
in development can be useful. Fair enough,
you say, but the children, they already knew.

by Colm Brennan

Published in The Cormorant, July 2019, Edited by Una Mannion

  • Competition: Red Line Festival Poetry Competition (2022)
    Shortlist
    Judged by Jessica Traynor

    Read Portrait #2 Oscar here.

  • “Sam took the shank from Becky and put his thumb in Blaze’s mouth to force his jaw open. The horse stepped back, the whites of his eyes showing and tried to pull his head free. Then he stood. Sam held onto the halter in such a way that it would hurt if Blaze tried to pull away again. Sam refused to twist a horse’s ear, claiming it was cruel. By doing it this way, he said, if Blaze got hurt, it was his own fault.”

    Journal: Profiles (2022)
    Edited by Clare Healy, Sarah Sturzel & Djamel White

    Get a copy of Profiles journal here.

  • The Cormorant Broadsheet (2018) / The Cormorant (2021)
    Edited by Louise Keneddy, Eoin McNamee & Una Manion

    The Cormorant Broadsheet
    Read Corner Boy’s Apprentice here

  • Journal: The Ogham Stone (2018)
    Editor in chief, Dr Carrie Griffin

    theoghamstoneul.com
    Read Shannon Fields here

  • Journal: Poetry Ireland Review (124, 2018)
    Edited by Eavan Boland

    Selected for Poetry on the Dart (Poetry Day Ireland, 2018)

    Read Mindfulness on the Poetry Ireland website.

  • “Jackie used to come in at half-ten. He’s gone and all. Years ago. Now on a Sunday Jack comes in at lunchtime. He stops off in the booking-shop first. Picks us each a nag and we watch them lose together. He’s a good boy. He organized for the girl to come in. He said I wasn’t looking after myself. Fingernails like rat claws. Mad long hair. It was yellow and all because I smoke so much. Love the fags, I do.“

    Journal: The South Circular (2012)
    Edited by Aoife Walshe

    Read Ballroom here