Aidan Fadden





A strange kind of derailed calm holds sway
after the worst weekend
when we got the thumbs down
after raising hopes of a child.

After your call, crying into the mobile,
after the miserly portions
for lunch
in the first rip-off place we could find.

After picking up the tab – rather less mignon –
and the two hours spent talking
to come to terms with there being
nothing now inside. After stopping at

the Circus Maximus to watch tourist
kids playing at charioteers until
their whinnying white-horses had tired.
After they gave each other piggy-back rides.




Aidan Fadden has published poems in various magazines, including The North, Magma, Stand, and in Cordite (Australia) as well as in translation in Italian journals.

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