Céileachair your House is on Fire,
your clothes are burning
Longphorts, raids
hear Granny talk about
Clonfin Ambush, Longford
the arrival of the first Civic Guards,
her father 19 men, 2 lorries,
reinforcements 150 men
14 lorries later British Forces burned
inside glass houses
& still water the dead apple tree
checkpoints, patrols, house raids
& Granny, behind the glassdoor
the weight of the body
mainly on her fingers
feet back to stand on tip-toes
one of the 'five techniques'
sad bowing sunk of breath
a bough of drink in disguise
the Planter & Gael
Pink Angels delight in an aquamarine
dessert bowl after skirts & kidney
where nought is wasted
no mulberry wrinkles inside me
Granny from the bridge over
Darkes Lane masonry falls
the Grand Fern Pine it’s empties glint
Céileachair banned
under Orbital ceiling
the faded grey gnomes
painted white the brambles
as well hammers,
beautiful wires, people
the milkstar rose in is
low iring
Céileachair of natural need
in gelignite or disgust & the opposite
is reflected the whole history
‘Madame, you are not allowed
in this Safeway, the next Safeway
is in on Honeypot Lane,’ &
laugh & stumble away,
pissed at Baptism Confirmation,
Eucharist asymmetric warfare
The Hay Wain in a broken gilded frame,
that bitumen black tumulus
under Sun King is rotting culture
that restoration oils can’t cede,
‘Lady, you're barred from Tesco.’
yet spider hatchery as spiderlings do,
dispersing as far as the bookcase
Dirty Mick PADDY O’ Bastard
Why is your hair always grey?
& why do you wear bleach
stained purple dresses?
the Audi a4 Quattro Clutch Replacement
is your new address
closed gardens candytuft tiles
in Yellow Lake Deep
blown across fireplace
a catchment area
in a cul-de-sac
of search & destroys
on damp dogtoothed carpet tiles
replaced Bairstoweves
like ladybugs Mary Our Lady
For Sale, her seven joys & her seven sorrows
filled empty gin bottles
& your children are gone
muttering? What is a mother? ing
to move in silver hay, in Woolworths
innocence is true & you knew
Céileachair, your House is on Fire,
your clothes are burning
your bones are somewhere else
near Elstree Studios,
Clockwork Orange Durango 95’
lane outside Brickett Wood running
from Munden House
to School Lane, was the
Police Landrover / ‘Trough Beating’ scene
would remind you that
‘you canst thou draw out Leviathan
with an hook? Or tongue with a cord
thou lettest down?’
suffering of that particular intensity
& cruelty into the orange light
let down to drown & sink by the word
in the Name of the Father,
Gardaí nunnery rebuke
all the way down the banisters
gastric contents intraluminal
My Lady Paddy O’ Bastard.
