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(Turkish wedding)

born for the void
dry dolls fall
around me
there are ikons
there are ikons more
horrible than
angels mangled
in the trees

the sperm
gardens with goat’s

the groom did the gorilla

the bride pined
with money

the upchoke of sea scents

the special chimneys

what passes
for my mind
ballistic reports
as you disappeared
everything is
not too ha ha

melancholy wakings now
attack the nipples

this milk turns to fire

the prophet comes
into a virtuous lady

my hymen


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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…