Warriors by Anne Rouse

Poetry

Belfast

They drive hell-bent as smoked-out bees;

slouch, backs to the wall, in The Rock or Lena’s;

make their U-turns tight like V’s.

Rip stories out of pin drop silence.

If a man pixillates in light, these nights,

it’s a Catherine wheel; a PR blitz, a migraine. .

They snatch at chances–cocaine, robbery, vice–

like matrons overturning jumble.

They survive the peace.


Anne Rouse lives in East Sussex. Her collection, Ox Eye, will be out with Bloodaxe Books in the spring of 2022. She can be found on Twitter at @rouseanne.