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another one in progress

Alstom Turbine Factory
(Elblag, Poland 19th November 2009)

these corners have straightened
my hands the endeavor of ruts
masculine & marvelous I true
it is I baited into the poem
into a birdless place
a massive bloke with crust
in his eye handles
the turbines with pockets
full of molten
crystal we do ocean
these lips away may I
call you mine may I
unlock this door we built
this city on a relentless
terror we built this hissing
head cracking cases
troubles track us down


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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…