Kevin Higgins' final poem ' I Always Thought I'd Live'

BY DECLAN VARLEY

Kevin Higgins

Kevin Higgins

Galway's literary community has been shocked this week with the passing of poet and writer Kevin Higgins.

When Kevin was diagnosed with serious illness late last year, he and I agreed to publish in poetic form in the Advertiser, his regular musings on the reality of illness and hospitalisation.

This process yielded some wonderful works which illustrated that no matter how much the body might let you down, the mind and its creative impulses continue to create thought-provoking works.

Just a few days ago, Kevin sent me the last poem. I was working on placing it in this week's Advertiser when word came through to me that he had passed away.

To his beloved Susan, to all his friends, to all he inspired and encouraged and taught, my deepest condolences.

Through all my time here at the Advertiser, Kevin has been a contributor across all fields whose work caused thought, provoked debate and gave cultural value to those who read it.

Here is his final contribution, dedicated to the many who have suffered bereavement in the past while and to those, like Kevin, who have faced illness challenges.

I Always Thought I’d Live

I always thought I’d live to learn how to swim

do the backward butterfly to Olympic standard

and see trickle-down economics deliver

at least one albeit slightly polluted drop.

I always thought I’d live to learn how to drive,

win at least one Grand Prix motor racing championship

and see the Democrats legislate for free

universal health care.

I always thought I’d live to tidy

the books off the study floor

and see fascists give up

stabbing black boys at bus stops

because peaceful protests

have eloquently made them

see the error of their ways.

But the books that made me

still decorate the study floor

and I don’t have the oxygen to shift them.

My consultants are unanimous

my days marching to places like Welling

and Trafalgar Square are over.

The risk of getting tossed into the back of a police van

by over enthusiastic members of the constabulary

is a luxury my lungs can no longer afford.

Even holding a placard in my wheelchair

would soon have me gasping for breath.

And I thought I’d always live.

KEVIN HIGGINS

 

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