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some reworkings from The Secret of Why . . .

dipping feet into dead holes:
polski pani
polski pani
zoo wee su zesh gee
oh wee ma me
pling plang ol la ba na na

the eye socket does not contain a rainbow
but the informer keeps on informing

coins on the table, flight delayed, & still trying to simplify my life
I’ve the restless disease with speedy boarding
one hold bag between all passages
literal survival mode pulls my gyspy strings
I hate to go so early into the verile light

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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.

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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…