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Tiger Wake

The Celtic Tiger, stone dead.
Isn’t it awful, awful?
She wandered onto the M6
Somewhere near Kinnegad,
Into the brute smack
Of a Lidl truck going west.

The heft of headlines, snap rage.
Isn’t it a real disgrace?
Someone left …

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Battleroad (song)

battleroad. song about dislocation and zerosum narratives. Or not.


On the battleroad, on the battleroad,
Whatever you were told, out on the battleroad.

You don’t fall, when you are dropped
Don’t know you’re moving, until the moving stops.…

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Short Story: Birds of a Feather

Joe waited until he was home alone before opening the bag. He dropped it on the kitchen table over a touristy place mat and scattering of unopened envelopes. His sweaty fingers gripped the zipper and the canvas spilled apart into …

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To Hanbury Gardens We Will Go

Mary, Mary, quite contrary,
How does your garden grow?
With silver bells, and cockle shells,
And pretty maids all in a row.

The car pulled up outside the entrance and three siblings stepped out into the hot sunshine. Sharp light …

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In Sea Tea (nct)

It wobbles now. A new wobble. Undisguisable. Over 50, something in the glovebox vibrates. Discomfortable frequency. Or maybe the world is wobbling, not the car?

I must try harder to never become emotionally invested in mechanical things.

Must try harder.…

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Over Loch Fee: Finding Connemara

From up on Garraun you can see out along Renvyle peninsula. Glasilaun, Lettergesh, Mullaghloss, and Tullycross somewhere hidden. Names known since I’ve known names.

Distilled summers of wave on wave, collapsing in rushes, scrambling down grassy slopes. The sea so

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Cashel Hill: Finding Connemara

I’m hunched down under a little umbrella, my back against a rock face on the mountainside, and through drumming hail sunlight beams from under a turreted and tendrilled bank of Atlantic cloud.

Cold. Fresh. Soft. The loft-frozen pellets hop and …

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Photos: Furbo Beach and Coast

Winter still on duty:
Drops dusk early
Provokes depressions to jostle over the Atlantic
And this one brings fierce hail,
Stinging along the coast

I run
For poor shelter under wavebashed rock
Scattering sea birds
Into jolted gale-hung grace
And …

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Short Story: Follow Me

Suddenly Sam found himself sitting at the next table to Sam.

To be more clear, Sam McKenna suddenly realised that he was sitting at a table next to a table where Sam McKenna sat.

To be clearer still, here we …

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Short Story: Swim Swim

701-9 Test 3028. 2017-12-15. 16:22.

Click. swing. Light up. Foodbody? Grabbody. Grabbody smell.

Grab grab. Grab grab go. Up up. Smell loud. Body loud. Away away. Over. Grab grab. Down. Ear loud. Down.

Splash splash. Grab go. Grabbody smell. Swim …

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Song: Born Willing

Born willing, fire inside,
Voice wailing “I’m alive”
Torn silence, punctured peace
Time feeling ill at ease

Bruised knuckles, bloody knees
Some learning never heals
Pied pipers peddle lies
Plastic halos, hiding eyes

Born willing, every morn
More able, more …

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Song: Cutouts

In the winter of the will where we have parked,
There are new words dealing in the dark,
Out you go – all you know.
In the time spun off the clock where we are sinking,
There are distant pretty …