Alchemisland

First time here

Meeting her nearest and dearest en masse

For the tenth time preening

Perfecting my appearance in the car mirrors

I have upon request removed my earrings

I abandoned at her behest the cerise shirt and chequered slacks I planned to wear

She rifled my closets drug squad style, threw my clothes everywhere

My lady fair cannot find a single shirt she finds acceptable 

How the snake ever got Eve to accept that apple

I do not know, she throws

Another shirt pile skyward. She examines one for longer but wrinkles her nose

Says when the right one comes she will know

I suppose she has a nose for such things, queen of the fleas, always finds the fur coat

I am not consulted, I type in my pin code and load

Up Reddit. Read a thread and every answer is a load

Of utter shit. Force close. Next I must be explicitly told

What not to show

Say between jobs instead of on the dole

I don’t mind, it’s the older generation you know

It completely crushes my soul but I say no, yeah

In the way that Irish lads do to waste their breath

Have you found something yet?

She sweeps the deck

Lays out her selections

In neat folded sections

Need them slacks pressed, she says

I’ll press you now in a minute, I jest

From her expression I don’t press her

Nor mention my lack of a trouser press

I tell her, she calls me amadán

I’ll iron while you get your tie on

The stress of today has us both back on the smokes, I’m dying

For one so I spark up and get ash on the shirt

If I was dying I’m dead, I’m nearly crying

She’s still out fetching the iron, but time is of the essence

I mutter requests for blessings and consider running to Blessington but get sense

Her rage is like a Zeppelin I can’t smoke around it or I’ll get bet

I erase the smudge underthumb and act innocent when she walks in, ah hi pet

Did you get sorted yet, yeah? She shows the iron and calls me a spa, duh, let

Me in there, why isn’t your tie on yet?

Christ, it’s like being back to Benildus

I shake dust out from one tie and without even eyeing

It, she tells me to put it back as if I were buying

Something frivolous, I can’t pick one when I’m hying

She’s frying in there like an air fryer cooking fries

Are you trying to catch flies? 

I surmise from her violence that the shirt is ironed and time is arrived

Pierrepont how she nooses my neck, a plain black tie from Next

They’ll probably bury me in it, I am stressed

She leaves me, now you’re already dressed

Just leave on time and I’ll see you then

She kisses me on the porch, hops in the Carina

I’m seeing three takes of everything like a Korean

Gameshow, but I’m going to be brave for Ciara

A shirt and aftershave bought in Clerys’ clearance sales before it closed

Ten years ago that was and it shows

Aged and out of style, something a ghost

Would wear to meet his host

I nearly boke, choke it down, manage to light a smoke

Energy jolting through me, I take eight tokes and crush it with my Yeezys

Crunchtime, let’s meet the folks, work the knocker it opens, ahhh Jaysissssssssss

Isn’t he lovely the mammy says

I brought you a wee present

Hands over prizes from Tesco

Pretzels, white wine and prosecco

Procession down hallway, no recession here wha’

Big kitchen with fancy marble tabletops and some amount of grub

I won’t grumble at that, my dad always liked Gift Grub, more beers than the pub

In a fridge taller than Goliath full of tubs of expensive ice cream

Huge screen and Sky premium TV, no CDs or DVDs but all the streamings

I take a tall one, a cold IPA and join the group at the table, she takes a roast out steaming

Ciara is beaming, her Dad prefers beamish, he talks about rugby as we tuck into roast beef

She went to Raphaelas, he went to Oatlands so he knows a Bennys lad would defile her

Transitioning from work to school, he asks did I do transition year and I say no, wanted to get out of there

She winces at that, I’ve to pretend I care do I, I push back my hair and say

What I mean was that I was eager to start my career

He asks what music I like and before I answer he offers that he likes Nebraska

The Boss isn’t no question asker, he’s a take to tasker kickyourasser yessir

He’s her dad, this is his pad, so I am ersatz and laugh, say after

I love that too, now the foot is on the other shoe I wonder what to volunteer

If I name something weird, it could spell disaster

I kept the beard despite her insistence, despite commands from my master

What bit of patter will sway her pater

Do you like Chris De Burgh?

Sentence hasn’t ended before he’s belting out Lady in Red, god that’s good

I zerg rush him with track names: Spanish Train, Patricia the Stripper. God, I’m good

To think Ciara had any doubt about the ability of this chrysostomos 

Agenbite of inwit, biting anxiety in the pips of my cerebral orchard, dimwit

Held back senior infants, all the easiest exams I resit

This bit we leave out but shout out Cian Cowley, kept back then sits

Them down now with fierce muay thai, but then he was a freckled boy

From Rosemount to the olive mount is some amount of pedometer steps

I feel waxy like a Wallace or maybe even a Gromit, I could vomit

Not from the food that’s peng, but from having to remember what to omit.