Alchemisland

Goons clowning on the Luas 

Crowded trams I’ll sit the roof

Try look aloof with someone’s hoof in your gob

Find your little book’s calm, day on the job 

Not dirty, does someone even have to do it?

Wife whatsapps me about house viewings, tell her sure thing but I’ve plenty be-doings

Begorrah and begob thank god me weekly wage exceeds nineteen bob

I project friendly and distant, my black coat is knee length, my necklace protects me from incident

Streets filled with indigents like 80s New York in a movie

Everyone wants the talkies but I’m Howard Hughes disabused

Of such notions, I make motions through the Grafton crowd

Loud with buskers and obvious yanks

Junkies planking in doorways under tattered blankets, like grey mousers

Cranky this time of morning

Tissue over a human shit

Beside a bin like Mr Hankey with trousers.

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You can’t stop moving for one second in Dublin

Got a smoke for a doobie?

If you’re lucky

Normally some junkie

Frisking you for phone wallet keys

In Ireland we do be doing things

Running rings around ourselves

Something in the lack of talking

Something festers in the back, unspoken

Take your token at the therapist’s office, ticket sits trillionth

Outside, ticket touts are shouting come on now come on now

I drink a caramel latte in ten minutes, feel my rusted guts boiling, bustling

Shits muscling past to get out, sticking down like piglet snouts into truffle mounds

Ten minutes late I’m in trouble now, Ronan saw me and wrote the time down

Saw a fiend plough furrow his brow a frown, a glance was thrown, one seed sown in the ground.