Ends

Ends

At my end of the earth the Atlantic began.
On good days trawlers were flecks far out,
at night the green waves were luminous.
Gulls were the birds that gobbled my crusts
and the air in my bedroom was salty.
For two weeks once a whale decayed
on the pale beach while no one swam.
It was gelignite that cleared the air.

The uses of village carpenters were many.
Mine made me a pine box with a door,
tarpaulin-roofed, a front of fine-meshed wire.
It suited my friend, the albino mouse
who came from Derry and ate newspaper
and laid black grains on the floor.
When he walked his tail slithered behind.
And when I holidayed once, he starved.


'Ends' from Selected Poems (Cape, 2002), © Matthew Sweeney, 2002, used by permission of the author and The Random House Group Ltd.

Recordings

Buy album £0.00

1Nightshow

2Astronomy

3Last Supper

4A Round House

5Imagined Arrival

6The Servant

7The Ideal Home

8A Crow's Cremation

9Ends

10Divers at the Laurentic

11A Couple Waiting

12The Shadow Home

13Pink Milk

14Her Song

15Cacti

16Hanging

17The Desert

18Banknotes

19Donkey Hoof

20The House

21Poker

22The Hat

23The Compromise

24An End

25The Butcher

26Dancer

27A Smell of Fish

28Hooves

29The Summons

30Hair

31The UFO

32In the Dust

33Insomnia

34The Sweatmark

35The Snowy Owl

36The Hunger Artist at Home

37The Snake

38Opera

39Black Moon

40In the Garden

41The Glass Chess Set

42The Blue Hammock

43Fish and Chips

Books by Matthew Sweeney