Gael
With no emeralds of their own,
a large clan had a small dinner
after praying quickly and quietly.
He’d heard rumor of gold
so far out to the west it was
almost, almost, inconceivable.
After whiskey he decided
to round them all up at dawn
and secret them aboard a coffin.
The cottage was warm that night,
a sleeplessness far too short.
Day broke like an ankle.
The trembling uncertainty, yes,
breakers and spindrift, of course,
but the plains, peaks, the promises.
The oldest, before sneaking on,
expressed his pride in his father’s,
and they kissed rosy beards goodbye
Polonia
Not that I read poems or polemics,
but I hate to hear her called that.
Sense says one name for one people.
Anyway, it’s temperate there too,
there’s plenty opportunity to seize
and surety in sovereignty.
The eldest few are wise to stay though.
They’ve already settled into themselves
and found jobs and families of their own.
The iron-hulled liner will safely haul the rest.
I’ll find a good deal on passage for next year
so we’ll have time and capital to set things up.
Then, when we finally do launch,
I’ll wave, as is polite and proper,
fare thee well to the remainder.
Systemic
Mick, Paddy, they always
followed: “No, not hiring…”
His hands and mind were fine,
it was just his accent was thick.
Little work, just labor and sleep
and feeding the family in between.
But one morning the sun leaned in
and gilded the kitchen cups in light.
The coffee steam billowed, and he
sat down and opened his paper.
First sight a political cartoon of
a drunken Irishman beating his wife.
He took out his flask
and tightened his fist.
Yorumlar