Publications — Ian MacMenamin

Particles, spring non-fiction winner CausewayLit

I am little. I see bacteria floating through the light from my torch at camp. We are in a forest heavy with midnight dew. The bacteria are busy. They commute between invisible pockets of air. They live in my cone of light.
Eilandgedichten, 2020

A book of beautiful poetry and illustrations. By Claudi Kessels and myself.
War kids in Amsterdam, Trailer Park Quarterly

we’re outside in my mother’s garden and the sun is out in september. I can’t blame him, or even her, she says. they were scarred by the hunger, 1944. at the close of the war they’d be bringing home a turnip and get stopped and beaten. over a turnip, I say. ja, she breathes and as she lifts her glass to her lips wine trickles down in sweet teardrops onto the grass. the dog doesn’t even stir.
Toothbrush, Edinburgh Festival Fringe 2019

Toothbrush was hilarious at every turn, keeping audiences on their toes from the very first line in which Kat shouts “suck on my clit”.
The Tribe, Juste Milieu Pop-Art Issue 8

Long ago, south of the Konni Lake a man and a woman of the Ts'yl-os (sigh-loss) tribe were turned to stone among the wild potatoes. They can change the weather; the man will change it kindly. The woman is less forgiving.
A Young Dog's Howl in the Wind, Every Writer's Resource

waves/american trains/running through/veins. endless/whiskey tears/golden hearts/and crazy/Fear./she rides/it all/and calls/the world/her/shell.