Mind a Hockney, paint drip dropped
Sold, pocket few bob
But not, alas, popular
Hocking loogies after bonging
Daytime to deireadh seachtaine
I have a sweet tooth that’s green
My barra seacláide a green shock
Elysian crop Hungarians grow in Dunshaughlin
Shotgun grief, a formality, at the grave of one unequal.
Alchemisland 
Leave a comment