Judgement Day

If I knew I'd live forever I'd never send a poem out. No poem ever comes with ten fingers and ten toes so I’d keep revising, add what's missing, remove what shouldn’t be there and put in the right fillip. One can only write while the sun streams in because too soon the moon comes out and in the dark one can’t fix a thing. Once you’re dead your poems live on, warts and all, naked on a sheet of foolscap or afloat in cyberspace for all to read and fault. It’s Judgment Day. Donal Mahoney