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Review: Terminus – Peacock Theatre

There’s a moment described in Mark O’Rowe’s new play Terminus, where a woman has been battered over the head with a chair. As she comes to, she realises that a man is wanking over her comatose body. That comes as close as I can get to describing the experience of watching this production, the moment [...]

Review: The Crucible – Abbey Theatre

The Crucible is a big play about big themes. It addresses weighty issues such as faith and superstition, collective hysteria and paranoia, the price of integrity, the explosive anarchic power of repressed sexuality, the cost of infidelity, and the way scapegoats serve to maintain social order and bolster shaky notions of piety. Not having seen [...]

The Soft Dick and the Gaydar Profile

A poem written and performed for “Love Poetry Hate Racism” at Crawdaddy Dublin on 22nd April 2007. I had a cold so it sounds a bit gravelly but it kinda suits it.
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(Not to mislead anyone: this isn’t a poem about racism, it’s an explicit, robust, no-holds-barred 8-minute long queer performance piece.)

Bootboy: Identity

This homecoming business is tricky. The subtleties and nuances of Irish life, my new Irish life, are proving to be more challenging than I had anticipated. Although, of course, I should not be surprised. Memory is a trickster. The deeper, more personal reasons why I left in the first place have, of course, not gone [...]

Bootboy: Love and Marriage

Written as Katherine Zappone and Ann Louise Gilligan’s case to have their marriage recognised in Ireland went to the High Court. October 2006.

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Bootboy: Relating to the planet

Written for the environment issue of Hot Press, October 2006.
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Bootboy: Student Issue

A reading of a Bootboy article in the 2006 student issue of Hot Press, September 2006. I’ve just moved into my new flat in the Liberties.

A year ago

As I wasn’t blogging a year ago, I’m republishing the article I wrote after the bombings on the 7th July 2005, a day I’ll never forget.
Silent Pillows
8th July 2005
Late at night, I can hear two things, usually, that remind me where I am, give me a sense of place. If the wind is right, the [...]

Cycling through Tuscany

Breathless.

Ritual

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