Pat Ingoldsby's new book of poetry has recently been published. Once again, he presents a unique, individual record of Dublin life in poetic form. From the sublime to the ridiculous, the poignant to the ludicrous and the inane to the dubious, it's yet another collection - his 19th of poetry and 23rd overall, for his fans to treasure and for new readers to discover and enjoy.
COOOOOOL!!!With poems ranging from childhood memories to his love for a woman, from people he meets on the streets to completely off-the-wall ideas, it's a book that made me gasp, laugh and think. Some of the poems have stuck with me for days - his tribute to a homeless girl called Fiona is quite something; some - including the one about the cow who thought "fuck the ozone layer" and farted - have stuck in my head and won't leave. It's certainly one I'll be rereading.
The way they arrive at your house,
wet and wretched, homeless and abandoned.
Within months they're giving out to you
for moving in your own bed!
IT'S A CHRISTMAS KIND OF THINGI'm particularly gratified to be one of the many people he thanked in the introduction of this new volume. Every time I stop to chat I leave with a different perspective, a smile or something new to look out for on the streets of Dublin. Therefore his addition of my name, though small, made me smile very brightly when I found out.
The homeless are handy at Christmas.
You do not even need to know their names.
They're out there somewhere.
You are helping them.
It feels seasonably good.
You don't have to meet them,
or touch them or anything like that.
Your son is at it too,
sleeping out for a whole night
with the sons of other better-off folk,
to help this anonymous, kept-at-a-distance,
disadvantaged group with no names
but known collectively, and for convenience
as the homeless.
A large group of better-off sons in sleeping bags,
huddling together under canvas
in the middle of O' Connell Street.
Helping the homeless.
are sleeping someplace else,
In ones or twos, under cardboard,
in doorways and skips, up lanes.
One or two might even flit past
during the night. They'll keep going.
They know their place.
By January they'll have been forgotten.
In the same spirit, I'd like to offer a signed copy of the book to someone who'd like a smile. It's great if you're a fan but equally, if you've never read Pat's poetry before, here's your chance to grab a copy.
Just leave a comment below with a way to contact you (if I don't know already) and I'll get in touch. Let me know what you think of it.
[All poetry by Pat Ingoldsby from Once Upon A Wicked Eye.]