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5 minute morning poem

Private Devotion (with special thanks to Anselm Berrigan)

a lanky man with custard was recalled to life it took both cities in their underwear without a spare taxi to take the twist out of the knickers better i reckon the producers wanted an understanding and a non-stop supply this might sound a bit metaphysical shrugging and adjusting with a page torn out wearing English slave garb with strangers in the nest with cable ghosts and excess lips and bulldozed my climax with invisible soldiers low burger with brass with skits and a drama if you go ahead and ask my babysitters with their clam shaped lips as good as a calendar i won’t steal myself in order to play fluffy sometimes becoming cynical is a sexual presentation


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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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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…