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from Moving Pictures (1st draft. 20 min.) (London Inferno Section)

Shepherds Bush (West London)

the biggest urban shopping blooms or busts
may yr head not turn the other way
may your brain not be boxed
may the ass be asked before bumping
before being bruised on the soft
seats of the underground
may you be well for the imagination
may you no longer be sick from the rumors
may you may you I dunno be rambled
tadpole tadpole a tad hullabaloo
can you hear yourself crumble
when you sleep can you fetch
the staff the stately staff we’re
graying and our post-capitalist
marches float through the dark
may you overreach reedy and red
may you wake with the nymphs
of Dionysus with a twig between
your teeth oh yes may may you
lop off your fat and refind it again
in some unknown city with the creature
creeps the pipes of the boat sucking
you out from under from from the suitcase
unpacked and repacked always too
heavy and always left behind

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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…