DANCE OF THE IRISH RAIN

rain into this hole

rain in and slowly scour the

damp grey slate walls

 

He dribbles intelligence, bits and pieces of

nursery rhymes and half forgotten dissertations

piles and piles of books, slowly digested

 

rain, scour my stomach

rain, scour my stomach

 

alluvial insides, nearly broken

in need of a fix

truly precious

truly in love

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