4 July 1998
Allihes St. Nicholas Church & Cemetary

dead laid to dead with a view of the atlantic and the copper mines that sent so many to early graves Harrington Downing O’Sullivan names that are traced in my blood from the seventh son of seven sons whose name like mine appeared on granite these overgrown grasses lost titles on overturned stones from years of solitude and the demands of death gnaw lighter now than years ago when there was a longing to be set with the generations before razor blade dreams looking at on faces on the street standing the test of time with my smile wind wracked and sand blasted wrinkles from an angry ethereal sea the Sleive Mist mountains clouded in clinging cotton slow moving as molasses or the minds of country folk’s change from year to year on issues like homosexuality and outsiders like myself… and in the cemetery the oldest known church on the isle whose window empty stood the test of time but walls like toy soldiers fallen to the earth among the Kelly’s and O’Neil’s.


Japanese style pottery from Cork Co. definitely appeals to my sense of style silent paper prayers Kanji guardians all about and some distant cousin telling us of creation processes as his son Tim Harrington pulled lovingly blue blonde upon his trouser leg speaking of the glaze the artist’s signature from scratch ground fire from the local copper turquoise and flashes of neat crossing one’s fingers to produce blues to vibrant beating burgundy … leaving now garbage sultry shipsers the bullet train to Tokyo and the book of limericks from Limmerick meets my eyes meets Japanese poetry society to form the Limmerku 17 syllable – 2a-2b-1a form as I give it a try:

Hold me
I shall not flee
I’ll stay with you
Forever true
Loving thee

Oh, well, it was worth a try at least


*flickering pictures hypnotise we spend our
lives watching other’s lives too much
watching to realize that this is a smoke
screen and this is why people die*

– More Whitewashing

*hunger put the sparkle back in television*

as the sudan crisis is posted across bus stations in Galway and you can help too just send a case of Dr. pib and burger king certificates to their address and all will be alright close your eyes don’t pay it any attention just watch as her lips swallow you swallow you in or close your eyes as the palm oil is saturating your hair just go shopping or take a drive using the oil we’re having others fight so hard for the news will tell us when it’s all over and it’s all over just close your eyes and follow me into the tele just follow me into tv land where we’ll give you a bucket and mop and you too can help clean up all those aesthetically unpleasant bodies


The islands sot across the sea line horizon passing *the most famous view in Ireland* gentle grey washing upon savaged shores as men in black rubber penetrate her briny deep searching for relics of past conquerors the rolling thighs snugging the sky hint at the cascading waters ravaged lands and hungry grazing wooly lovers the falls part your lips mossy crags and sloping rocks both carved marked owned and those natural as the day you first parted your legs to meet the heavens


Strange more than slightly strange that the Ogham stones of Dunloe were just at the side of the road and not even at a wide spot in the road up to a set of steps to a graveled railed area enclosed no cultural notes no explanation no security and an old (peace) symbol on one of them as if some force decided that I wasn’t to walk too far and transported them for me only to move them back home this evening… the carvings were distinct solid reminders of something perhaps a past of stone words of warning or dedications to the gods… I’m not sure. I’ll have to cross reference it later.