Five Poems
The Empty Airport

A woman holding the hand of a little girl stood for a long time, staring and not saying anything, before turning and beginning to walk quickly, and then run, in the direction of the doors through which she and the little girl had come.   

The Three Dogs

The first one died.
It lay down in the street, and couldn’t or wouldn’t get up.
The second one and the third one waited near it for some time.
They whined a little, sniffing the cold air.

The Flogging

You could pay
to watch.  The

more you could
pay, the closer

you would be

The Woman Without a Face

Two men walked
down an alley

at night, passing
a bottle back

and forth.  “Did
you hear that?” one

said, suddenly
stopping.  “Hear

what?” said the
other, unsure

whether to laugh
or be afraid.

The Ghosts of Men Who Died Without Confessing Their Sins

You couldn’t see

them but you

could hear them and they

could touch you.
EDWARD MULLANY is the author of If I Falter at the Gallows (Publishing Genius, 2011) and Figures for an Apocalypse (forthcoming).