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another quick revision

Unheimlichkeit ( the breaking of ground)

it takes four horses
to overcome
14 pounds
of limp flesh

& what is crossed
is found again

in modern Utah
a cowboy came
to me shucking
corn and shrugging
with his wads of
paper from the Lamma
welfare shelter
and I was chewing
Now & Laters
while my grandmother
Jean was dissolving
into Northern
Irish gravy oh lottery
to the grand
land of dreams of
hidden
Star Wars figures
forgotten on light bulbs
this is a faint signal
from Portadown
to Milton Keynes to
Las Vegas
agog with crackes and shells
alive alive piecing together
extra bits is that you
in front of me in a rocket ship
with Neil Diamond
blasting we're coming
to America
today today but I'm in Elblag
Poland among Teutonic
bones and the shadow of a nun
in her spires I've dreamed
of horses I've dreamed of lands
I've never seen

such a variety of houses & fortresses
which fish make from their own liquor
& saliva these details take precedence
over a panorama

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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…