Gabriel Conroy

Link to home pageLink to current issueLink to back issuesLink to information about the magazineLink to submission guidelinesSend email to

 A wind tunnel
          at the end
          of the mind,

          Blackbirds in flight;

          Silence at dawn.


         Dogs howl,
sirens one street over;
sounds of summer
two months early


          Dawn without light,
crows in ascendance,
snow, sleet,
or rain

          Maybe all of the above



the night, the dead

          As cats do


Waiting for the UFO’s

Every week,
garbage trucks
their loads.

Fenced in frantic
dog howls;

thinks, what kind of
monsters are these?

Someone is smashing out windows
on our Street

You hear a rebel yell and crash

It goes on that way for awhile
and escalates

Into hysteria
four broken windows

And a lot of noise
but no sirens

Some blocks that might have
meant dead bodies

I can live with the noise


Gabriel Conroy is a Dubliner by ancestry, American by birth. He completed a novel Broken Field Running he is loath to send anywhere; some things are best left to oneself.  More recently, he has been examining his poetic roots.