Friday, May 27, 2011

Terrible Beauty

CEAD MILE FAILTE
Welcome to the theme bar
STATIONS OF THE CROSS
I’m Seamus Station
I’m the boss
Come on in
Tourist or refugee
Hear the blarney
And the goosesteps
In synchronicity
Fancy a Joyce walk
Or a talk on O’Casey
By the Abbey
Where we spat in his well
A very popular site
In our virtual hell
I invented a culture
Drank it dry
Dug up the dead
Drained the maggots from their head
Dressed them up in ringlets
And called it dancing
Traditional historical hysterical
I’m building a hotel
On the hill of Tara
Landscape gardens
Artificial lakes
And I’m buying back the snakes
I’m cutting the drive
Through the ancient oaks of the Celt
Cos there’s nothing like ripping off yourself
And I’m all speeded up
And the gravy train has run amok
And there’s no level crossing
And me head keeps turning and tossing
In porter and fear
And I can’t forget O’Casey
Sure there’s no prostitutes here

http://fierceheadpress.com/poem-terrible-beauty.html

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