January 4, 2018 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

Alexander Mueller photo



Edward Lee




Too Late For Too Long Now



The rain, with its acid bite

has been falling

for many years now,

sizzling seductively on our roofs

and our clothes,

missing our skin

by some miracle

not holy.


We can ignore it

when there is no pain,

no discomfort,

when the workings of our lives

are not being derailed,


but pain shall come,

as pain always does,

and, of course,

by the time we are no longer able

to ignore

what is splashing into our world,

it will be too late,


as it always has been before.





On Every Doorstep



The abattoir on my doorstep

stops life coming in,

while the scent of death stains

my windows so much

I don’t open the curtains anymore,

leaving me to live

in darkness, alone, silent,

afraid even to turn on

my out of date television

least any cameras

are pointing at the slaughterhouse,

the only news left

fit for human consummation,

and my pale face

may be seen

in the grainy background,


one more living person

afraid that newly-informed death

might press it’s bony finger

on the doorbell,







Edward Lee

Edward Lee’s poetry, short stories, non-fiction and photography have been published in magazines in Ireland, England and America, including The Stinging Fly, Skylight 47, Acumen and Smiths Knoll. His debut poetry collection “Playing Poohsticks On Ha’Penny Bridge” was published in 2010. He is currently working towards a second collection.

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