When the ravages of Alzheimer’s leave an elderly woman marooned in painful memories of October 1950, her grandchild comes up with a creative strategy.
by Patrick Cotter
No lyric ever stopped a tank – Seamus Heaney
From the moistened surface of my tongue
attend this crafted gift to instil faith.
No battle tank ever blocked a poem, no
armour-piercing round ever shattered
a stanza word by word. Architecture,
statuary, paintings, snared in the gaze
of a scope’s reticle, all fragment
to pounded dust. But phonemes, syllables,
glottal stops shard through brains smoother
than shrapnel. Poems, shielded by their lack
of atomic stuff, resist a Merkava’s
mortal, kinetic venom. Shoot and blast
and fire all you want, you cannot annihilate
the circulated thoughts of man, of woman;
not the kevlar-like thought of a lyric’s
reticulated words and beaded chimes.
Patrick Cotter lives in Cork. His latest book is Quality Control At The Miracle Factory (Dedalus Press, Dublin, 2025) www.patrickcotter.ie
Poetry submissions to [email protected]


