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NO NAME

here comes the wind
the blinds clacking

like stuck penguins
I’m sleeping with

a flower vender
on a moped

with a bell from hell
let's part the hood

and ride
our Hegelian brides

with the wicked smiles of those who jerk
off and off

in solid white cloudy tissues
and the ashes of Irish mermaids, yep, them

i clog along
in deer hoofs

my thursdays
bleeding
into your weekends

silk hair expiring at
yr ankles with

a sea map between
cleavage


yr voice cracks
like a piano you keep
moving we’re long
gone

water boils in the clouds
of the sick

i run on beams
a baptismal dish
when i’m smiling
my jaw turns to stone
heft yr own hungry
ghosts

dawn’s kingdom
maketh me

beside the rancid
waters

swift with my
antlers

my tawny
bride

engorged
me

I danced myself
a tomb

a goat two goats
stood on the rocks

my hand raised
towards
THE DAWNS

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Another Ireland: Part Two
Maurice Scully, The Basic Colours. Durham, UK: Pig Press, 1994.
Geoffrey Squires, Landscapes and Silences. Dublin: New Writers' Press, 1996.
Catherine Walsh, Idir Eatortha and Making Tents. London: Invisible Books, 1996.

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