‘Molly Bloom goes to yoga’ by Ingrid Casey

by The Lonely Crowd

Yes I made three hearts, and hinted at one more, no

I don’t feel like writing about scourges or gyres or

changes or art because today the writing is about

laminar flow, aquatic claim on phallic, no tumult or

smashing or sloshing but a clear glass, illusive stream,

the knowledge that during savasana there are thousands

of possible hearts skipping about the room, there are hands

touching your hands, the sacred hands the veined vascular

moments of magic the carpet is rough you are supine you

are released you don’t need politics or whisky or edgy shit

and you’re as much of a poet as Hector or Roland and you

listened to Herbert about always questioning and your clown’s

face, you still love makeup but you understand that reality is

the thing we dream into being and truth is a light in the navel.

Ingrid Casey is a poet, teacher, mother and artist. Her work is informed by art, memory, life in Ireland and the sublime that we find in day to day life. She has developed her craft through having work published in the Moth, Banshee magazine, Southword, the Honest Ulsterman and in the fundraising anthology for the Dublin Simon Community, Looking at the Stars.

‘Molly Bloom goes to yoga’ is taken from Issue 6 of The Lonely Crowd which can be pre-ordered here. The issue features two other new poems by Ingrid Casey.