Alan Kissane

The Stop Sign

As another memory is unexpectedly swept out
of a dusty corner, the chance to rekindle a connection

forged in smooth skin and unbridled laughter
slips by. The greasy deposits of fingerprints

leave more of a trace on a phone’s search history
than in the forgetful pulses

of an analogue heart. Are our rhythms
even compatible from a distance or are they in need

of an unpalatable upgrade? The answer
lies in the lost voice finding itself and wanting to.

It’s certainly a risk and risks are for other people:
I’m sure there’s a video or a blog about it online.

Long Overdue

I slop paint onto the tired walls
And doors of the old family house.
No one asked me to –
I just want to feel like I’m doing
Something useful now they’re gone.
Turns out it’s the wrong colour
And I have to do it again.

Alan Kissane works as an English teacher in the Midlands, UK. His poetry has appeared in Dissonance Magazine, Dust PoetryNeologism, and Emerge Literary Journal amongst others.