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Boy with the arab strap is working for me this morning.

Been thinking of ways I don't want to go:

1) Foaming at the mouth
2) With a priest hovering over me
3)Tubes and a breathing machine
4) Unaware (i.e. out of my mind)
5) gun shot to head
6) hanging
7) gutting
8) electric jolts
9) Decap (via accident or otherwise)
10) clamps to the head
11) black and decker drill to the knees then temples

Cold hands in this room. My study room is always cold. No heating vents. Gotta get me some holy gloves.


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Another Ireland: Part Two
Maurice Scully, The Basic Colours. Durham, UK: Pig Press, 1994.
Geoffrey Squires, Landscapes and Silences. Dublin: New Writers' Press, 1996.
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I began the first half of this article (Notre Dame Review #4) by mentioning some of the limits to the legendary hospitality Ireland has shown to its poets. If you arrive in Ireland from any point of departure outside of Eastern Europe, you will indeed find a public far more willing than the one you left behind to grant poets the recognition all but the most ascetic secretly crave. However, this hospitality has never extended to Irish poets w…