What the hammer
Dermot Healy's poems "project an open, rugged humanity, celebratory of common life" -- The Irish Times. In this second collection, Healy broadens his focus from his communal devotions to the quick of the natural world. Local speech patterns incorporate idiosyncratic observations and sometimes surreal incursions. In a book busy with life -- "Everything is on the go. Time is moving inland". -- Dermot Healy registers sounds and silences in ultimately peaceful ways.
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62 Raining anchor Approaching Car Ardbollan Armada at Streedagh Barnacles beach blooms blue boats breath burning burst open Coal Bags cold Colours comes Commonage in Ennis Cormorants Cuckoo-pint dark dead door Dream drunk eyes face field fill Fire flames footfalls Footsteps forget full tide Gallery Books gather geese grain of sand Gunshots Hammer EARTH House is Tiny Inishmurray inland Jimmy Foley Joe Donlon July Storm land leaf leap light Litany lone step looked loud Maisie Mermen monks Mullet never night No-tree Old Chiefs Pity the Moon Radio Raining in Georgia Road from Aghadoon rocks Rosary Rust salt Sea-fire Sea-sand Sea-spray Sea-weed seed shale shovels Signs silent sins sleep Sligo Slip smell snipe someone Soot sound sparks spit stones street Tern there's ticks Travelling turn Wagtail walls Wandering Cat warbler waves White Road wind wings winter Wren Girl