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Love Cyclops
(for Piero Heliczer)

the vaginas of birds in burnt grass in Milton
Keynes
my feet as they entered the reeds
stone stone
or so I have heard
heaven is a pebble
in the eye signature
eye weeping bird baths
her bobby pins
her bobby
this bear day
there are no bears
it scares me
joints in the grass
sure can
sugarcane
faded blue jeans
on my wilting face
in Patagonia answer me

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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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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…