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from 2004-2005 manuscript (Never Mind the Beasts)

Of Our Cranial Love for the Lion

we were reading toward Bethlehem
suffice it to say we were tired elephants
we were reading toward Bethlehem
we were reading toward Bethlehem
with wet blankets looking for new insurrections
suffice it to say religion stinks
but really we were reading toward Bethlehem
we did not want the skin of the farmer
we left the doctor on the side of the road
we were reading toward Bethlehem
as part of a seminar on special problems
for honest mystics
we were reading toward Bethlehem with old texts
the old texts pointed toward Bethlehem
suffice it to say we were reading toward Bethlehem
suffice it to say we were reading toward Bethlehem
suffice it to say we loved the rocking wet breast moment
suffice it to say slouching
we were reading toward Bethlehem
slugging through old texts toward Bethlehem
with insurrections toward Bethlehem
suffice it to say reading toward Bethlehem
in love with the lion

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Another Ireland: Part Two
Maurice Scully, The Basic Colours. Durham, UK: Pig Press, 1994.
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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…