1.
Marty Regan’s shiny coffins are loitering
along the out-house wall.
Lukie Dyer, waiting outside Anderson’s pub,
fag burnt close to the knuckles,
is doubled over in a fit of coughing.
2.
Toothless,
Pete Boland’s grin
floods his face.
His eyes are
salmon leaping.
3.
After mass
the pints
on Murphy’s counter
are a meeting of stout clerics.
No comments:
Post a Comment