It goes under, the cursor, whenever I place my finger
on the space bar and hold it like this for a minute.
The blue screen shimmers the way a pool’s sunlit
floor moves after the splash of a lone swimmer.
In the U.S., there’s no better day to celebrate Irish heritage and our connections with Ireland than St. Patrick’s Day. Green rivers, cheesy shamrock hats, and buckets o’ Guinness aside, we’re always happy to advocate for the rich Irish culture that exists in our country. This year, we’ve been celebrating with the publication of a very special and unique book…Continue Reading
Today’s the day! It’s finally here! We’ve been waiting so long to tell you about our newest book, The Shack: Irish Poets in the Foothills and Mountains of the Blue Ridge, that it’s hard to believe we can finally talk about it. In The Shack, contemporary Irish poets reflect on their time in the foothills and mountains…Continue Reading
As storm clouds roll into Winston-Salem, Conor O’Callaghan writes of a somewhat drier world—yet the haunting sentimentality of his poetic voice still manages to soak us to the bone. January Drought It needn’t be tinder, this juncture of the year, a cigarette flicked from car to brush. The woods’ parchment is given to cracking asunder the…Continue Reading
I wanted his sky-blue Ford, its sheetrock, its transmission issues.
I listened to his low-down yodelling skimming sunk studs
and snake rattles like wind chimes round his mantle in the hills
and parables waiting for windows to arrive where some lunchbox
was always asked what sort of lunchbox he took Roy for.
Here in North Carolina, we’re experiencing our first week of temperatures in the 90s, so mid to upper seventies sounds pretty good to us. Conor O’Callaghan’s poem leads us to a comfortable sunny spot. “Mid to Upper Seventies” by Conor O’Callaghan He rests The Narrow Road to the Deep North on an arm of the sunroom…Continue Reading
“September” by Conor O’Callaghan from Seatown And Earlier Poems It must be cliché to think, however brief, that light on a wall and our voices out in the open are the pieces we shall look upon in retrospect as a life. There is a danger of circumstance smothering even the smallest talk. If a breeze…Continue Reading
“Pitch & Putt” by Conor O’Callaghan Its is the realm of men and boys joined in boredom, the way of life that sees one day on a par with the next and school breaks dragged out too long. Theirs is the hour killed slowly, the turn for home in diminishing threes and twos, the provisional…Continue Reading
The Narrator during the break in chapter, gets up to stretch beneath a skylight and hears seagulls, small girls running. So many pages since he listened last that he can’t recall how it came to this or which wall the door was on or even now what time of year it is Are his…Continue Reading
in an interview with WFU Press intern, Nicole Fitzpatrick. Read it here:Continue Reading
Today’s snow-blanketed Wake Forest University campus. How does Conor O’Callaghan seamlessly connect a snowy North Carolinian landscape, James Joyce and voicemails? Ripe with isolation, introspection, recovery and renewal, O’Callaghan’s latest collection, The Sun King, whispers secrets and sings the emergence of light born of the soul’s darkest moments. Technology flashes in and out of The Sun King, yet O’Callaghan’s…Continue Reading
Conor O’Callaghan’s forthcoming The Sun King was recently reviewed by Billy Ramsell in The Stinging Fly. Ramsell describes O’Callaghan’s style as “an almost Shakespearean tendency to render reality not only by means of literary devices but in terms of those very tropes and conceits. Again and again in this his superbly reflexive fourth collection parts of…Continue Reading
Everyone knows that poetry is best when listened to, so kick back, relax and belatedly celebrate National Poetry Day with some readings from our poets. Conor O’Callaghan reading “January Drought” from his newest collection, The Sun King. WFUP will publish the North American edition in December. Conor will be reading from The Sun King at the…Continue Reading
“I toast my new age. I drink its tongue-roll, its wheel-whirr, on the road to Montecarlo. Quarantaquattro, quarantaquattro, quarantaquattro …” Conor O’Callaghan turned 45 on September 20th. All of us here at Wake Forest University Press toast Conor as he embarks on quarantecinque. The quote above is from The Pearl Works, a collection of 52…Continue Reading
In his newest book, The Sun King, Conor O’Callaghan invites readers into the shockingly vulnerable and sometimes bitter consciousness of a speaker who offers an unedited confession of his most intimate experiences.Continue Reading
This poem is from Conor O’Callaghan’s Fiction. O’Callaghan is the editor of our upcoming The Wake Forest Series of Irish Poetry Volume Three, which will be released this coming summer. As you pause between chapters, take a look around and enjoy the sights and sounds that surround you. You will always be able to find your place on…Continue Reading