“… my n[u] sw[oo]s[h] …”

I am ir[asc]ible as a question

and im[pet]{u}ous as a touch

and impat[i]ent as one

and im[puls]iv[e] as the beat of a heart.


I am sn[app]y as electronics

and s[harp]ish as my Dublin beloved

and sn[eak]-

i[sh] as a man who burrows quiet and deep;


and s[ni]de-

like when the time approaches,

on too m[any]

occasi[on]s [or off]


I can all too e[as]ily

recall [the idiotic twat I’ve been],

and so that’s why I’m will[in]g

(though not en[tire]ly


happy [nor altogether bright-eyed])

to [ad]mit [as public message]

how [m]{y}



has been occasi[one]d [and far more

than one] by such a


melodra[ma] of learning so tough.


And whilst my

te[mp]er be[comes] [self-interested]

to the table of my damnation, and so[me]{times}




out of real ill,

and stupidly foolish

reasons to be [sill{y}],

and even when


all the above’s quite rightly

given you plenty of bloody

justifications which – challenging the crimes

I have cruelly engineered –

lead you to shut me out so weird


as clearly you have done,

without wronging me one little tad

nor goddamn itty bit,

even so

I have never been able to quite close down

the good sneaking feeling


that if given

some chance, the being together we spent

on two days


might multiply forthwith

like the haze of summer




the love of two people, strangely attached –


and yet perfectly

suited to their ever so curious chronology;

that very well

timed and so handsomely rhymed …!



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