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still looking for space . . .

Space is becoming more and more vital

Three more months without a sanctuary.

I negotiated my own flat for September

In September I hope to find a physical space.

Head space is also vital.

What is headspace?

Well, too much headspace=headcase.

Need to make myself social to avoid becoming a headcase.

But too much social=headcase.

I don't want to be a headcase.

Lack of writing makes me a headcase.

Lack of space makes me a headcase.

I am sensitive. over-sensitive to my surroundings.

I am not good at blocking out.

I notice too much.

Sticky eyes in a sweety shop.

I am still in a mass transition from my married life.

I need a big whirl

to get drunk on words again.

Andrew gave me a whirl.

I need another one soon.

Notebooks and pens are not working well.

indeed I need a big screen.

12 inches is too small.


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This review really hit it for me. I recently read Maurice Scully's _Livelihood_ and Geofrey Squires _Untitled and Other Poems_ is on deck (I love that baseball term. It is baseball, right?)

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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.
Catherine Walsh, Idir Eatortha and Making Tents. London: Invisible Books, 1996.

By Robert Archambeau

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…