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Image by Laura

AN AITIUIL: AN ANTHOLOGY

with the martello journal

A Bit Out of Touch

by úna nolan

Dublin and I go way back, actually. 

 

We held toddler hands in Primary, 

chubby little dinner plates tugging on each other’s plaits. 

She knows how jealous I was when my brother and sister 

first came home from Hollow Street. 

 

We have sat in the Hairy Lemon 

Waiting for the drinks to start serving. 

Sat there from open til close, laughing until sides

 ached and my chest glowed.  

 

She came straight over after my first real heartbreak, 

the lane between Ballsbridge and Herbert Park- 

I brought salt and vinegar, I knew chocolate would be pointless.

 

And always Workman’s on a Wednesday 

Pack of Amber Leaf in one pocket (I’d have her roll for me) and a naggin under the table

We would order too many rum-cokes and dare each other to kiss strangers-

On the lips or it doesn’t count 

 

Not that we could afford that now- 

No more €7 Smirnoff fished for in Green, 

Split it with a Club Lemon and stumble home 

Rebellious and tipsy at a clean 9:30-

Yeah, the movie was great Mam thanks for asking 

 

I guess Dublin’s been quite distant lately. 

She’s hanging out with another crowd- 

Business, economics- you know the type. 

The ones we used to laugh at from the Newman steps, 

I’d plant a kiss on her shoulder and she’d rummage

in her tote for a light. 

 

Her tastes seem to be changing 

Less grimey pool tables (she’d always win)

Less sleeping over on the old mattress downstairs 

I’ve stopped keeping oat milk in the fridge actually, 

I’ve been meaning to tell her 

 

Yeah, Dublin and I go way back but 

we don’t see much of each other these days 

 

She’s always working when I try call- 

Heard she wanted to be a Hotel Manager 

Or Something like that, anyways. 

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